Into the Unknown
by NJ Coffee Queen
Summary: Two years after the war ends, Hermione Granger sees Draco Malfoy for the first time.  Only he's not the same boy she remembers from her school days and he has no idea who she is.
1. Chapter 1

New story! I own nothing! I thought I would get the first chapter up while I have a little down time before a training session. Gotta say, extra responsibilities at work are a thing of which I am not fond. Also, humidity. Not a fan of that either.

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><p>Chapter 1<br>A muggle bookshop was the second to last place one would expect to find Draco Malfoy. A muggle bookshop owned by Hermione Granger was the very last place one would expect to find Draco Malfoy. But there he was browsing the travel section wearing jeans and a dark gray hooded sweatshirt with a tan messenger bag slung over his right shoulder.

Hermione had spotted the brilliantly blonde shock of hair from across her shop. It was the third day in a row that he patronized the small establishment, and it bothered her to no end. She hid behind a row of self help books, watching as he pulled book after book from the shelves as if deciding, based solely on the covers, which destination was right for him. But he always put them back, never buying one of them. They were always put back in the correct order, too - alphabetical according to country and then publisher. Fodor's always came before Frommer's, and Fiji always came before Greece.

From her spot behind the shelves, she noticed Draco glancing up to look at her. Sheepishly, she stepped around and moved nearer. "Anything I can help you with?" she asked, trying to remain the friendly proprietor. Draco shrugged and pulled a book on Rome off the shelf. It seemed he either didn't remember who she was or didn't care that the muggleborn he tortured daily was asking if she could assist him. "The Frommer's is better," she said, pulling it from the shelf.

He replaced the book, but didn't take the one she suggested either. "I think I'll just browse. Thanks anyway," he replied, turning the corner to the next aisle.

It wasn't until he was next in line to check out that Hermione saw him again. He deposited three books, two fiction and one history, on the counter for her to ring up. "Find everything okay?" she inquired, scanning the first bar code. He nodded and fumbled around in his bag, Hermione guessed, for his wallet. "Cash or charge?"

Wordlessly, he produced a bank debit card. She examined the card, her eyes widening at the name printed in raised silver letters - Derek Malloy. "Something wrong?" he inquired impatiently, noting her frown.

"Do you have ID?" she requested, holding the card between shaking fingers. With a dramatic sigh, he reopened his wallet to pull out his identification card and threw it down on the counter. The name on the card matched the name on the ID, and the picture was most definitely Draco. Her brows furrowed in confusion, but she rang up his purchases without another word. He grabbed his card and receipt, signed, and took his bag with a huff.

"Was that Draco Malfoy I saw run out of your shop?" Ginny Potter inquired, walking up the employee side of the counter. Hermione nodded and excused herself to the back office. "Was he on the muggle side of the shop?" she asked, taking a seat in front of Hermione's desk.

"And he seemed to have no idea who I am," Hermione added. "Like I was a complete stranger."

"He's been gone for years though. No one's seen him since the war. Why would this be the place he makes his reappearance?" Ginny wondered. She leaned back in her chair, arms on the rests, and her head turned towards the wall of books as if deep in thought.

Hermione, too, had occasionally thought about where Draco Malfoy had gone. Trials had been set not long after the war had ended. It was her testimony, as well as Harry Potter and Ron Weasley's, that saved him from a life in Azkaban. A probation hearing had been set for the next week, but Hermione hadn't attended. And then no one heard from him again, and two years had passed.

Her store had opened a year after the war and trials ended. Several departments of the Ministry clamored to have Hermione Granger among their ranks, but she had other ideas. Flourish and Blott's, the wizarding bookshop in Diagon Alley, had been burned to the ground during a Death Eater raid. Hogwarts was on the mend, and the school children would need a place to buy their school books. Ergo, Granger Books was opened. It was a two-sided shop, catering to both the wizarding and muggle worlds. Muggles never knew about the other side, and most witches and wizards didn't come through to the muggle side. It was the best of both her worlds.

Ginny sighed. "Maybe Harry'll know something," she decided. Her fiancee, after all, was an Auror with access to every case file ever created by the Ministry of Magic. "Are you coming back to the Burrow tonight?"

Hermione knitted her eyebrows in confusion. "Why am I doing that?" she asked, toying with a ballpoint pen she found buried beneath a stack of invoices.

"For the third time this week, tonight is my bachelorette party," the redhead reminded her. "As a bridesmaid, your attendance is mandatory. We were thinking, in honor of my soon-to-be husband's half blood status, that we would do a little wizard pub hopping and then a little muggle pub hopping. We're to call Ron at the end of the night to help us Apparate back to my parents' house as we will all be far too pissed to go it alone."

Hermione groaned at the thought of her ex-boyfriend. She had kissed him in the middle of the battle, purely running on adrenaline and the fear that she might never see him again. It was Ron who took things to the next level, declaring her his girlfriend not long after. They held hands, they kissed, she lost her virginity to him. But the entire relationship felt wrong. And so she ended it six months previously.

Ron hadn't seen the end coming. Not since his brother Fred's death had she seen him cry, but he fell to his knees, clutching her legs, and begged her not to leave him as a single tear dripped down his freckled cheek. She whispered apologies as she tried to back up towards the floo, desperate to escape. His grip was strong. It took two of his brothers to pull him off of her, and she left hastily.

That was the last time they had seen each other.

"Hermione?"

Ginny spoke her name so worriedly that it made Hermione snort. She brushed back an untameable curl and smile at her friend. "Don't worry. I'll be there."


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks for all the great responses to chapter 1! It's always greatly appreciated!

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><p>Chapter 2<br>It was Friday night and muggle London was alive. Hermione, considered to be the expert, was tasked with leading the gaggle of witches through brightly lit Soho until Ginny decided on their next stop. The first, after they all arrived at the Burrow, was, as Hermione named it, a liquid dinner at the Leaky Cauldron.

Hermione's feet ached in protestation of the stiletto heels Ginny insisted she wear. They clacked against the concrete sidewalk and caught in cracks. Her skirt was too short, her top too low cut, and she dreaded any moment when she would have to remove her knee length trench coat. She groaned, knowing that time would be soon.

"This place looks fun," Ginny declared, her blue eyes glazing over from the amount of alcohol she had consumed already. The other witches - Luna, Lavender, Parvati, Padma - agreed readily and followed the bachelorette inside with Hermione entering last. They quickly found a table near the dance floor, and Ginny volunteered Hermione to get drinks.

She groused under her breath all the way up to the bar. Was it so wrong to just want to go home, curl up with a book and her cat, and go to bed early? According to Ginny Weasley, yes.

"Get you something?" the bartender asked. Hermione glanced up, coming face to face once more with Draco Malfoy. He was shirtless, his lean muscles shining under the strobe lights. Faint scar lines shone from when Harry cast an ill placed spell in their sixth year, cutting deep into his pale flesh. She glanced down briefly, her tongue dry in her mouth, and noticed he wore a tight pair of denim jeans. "Miss?"

"Oh, um, two dirty martinis, one blended strawberry margarita, a mango mojito, a regular mojito, and a bottle of water," she replied automatically.

He set about filling her order. "So, you're that girl, right, from the bookshop," he said casually as he poured vodka into a shaker.

Hermione nodded, trying to focus on anything but his toned, exposed chest. "And you're that guy who comes into the bookshop," she replied, throwing him a small smile.

He quickly returned it. "This is a gay bar, you know. We don't get a lot of women here," he stated, setting two martinis on a tray before moving on to the margarita. "Well, straight women anyhow. There's this one woman who comes in every Saturday with a bevy of men who have no interest in her. She sits...well, right where you're sitting now, and flirts shamelessly with me. She's not very good at it though. Usually comments on my ability to shake a martini as if its a euphemism for something else."

The brunette laughed, but stopped quickly. Why was Draco Malfoy telling her this? she wondered. The better question though was why was Draco Malfoy tending bar in a gay bar? Her brain went into hyperdrive trying to work it out as if it were an Arthimancy problem and her status as valedictorian was on the line.

The last drink was on the tray before he spoke again. "I can carry those for you," he offered.

"Thanks," she said, waiting for him to round the bar before leading him to their table.

He set the tray in the middle of the tables and winked at Hermione. "Enjoy, ladies," he said as he turned back to his post.

"Why is the yummy bartender winking at you, Hermione?" Lavender Brown inquired, lifting her margarita off the tray. "And why did you again order water?"

Hermione snorted. As if ordering water was the strangest thing about their night. In lieu of answering, she took a seat and opened the bottle. Beneath the table, slipped off her right heel and flexed her toes, then repeated with the left.

"Isn't that Draco Malfoy?" Padma asked, leaning in close to her friends to be heard over the music.

"Not according to his ID," Ginny remarked, smiling wryly. "Right, Mione?"

Lavender laughed hard to the point where she almost fell out of her chair. "Isn't he supposed to ask to see your ID, not the other way around?" Again she laughed and Hermione watched as the red blended drink sloshed over the rim of the glass as Lavender tipped it forward along with her body. Hermione reached forward to right it, but the other woman took it as some kind of slight. She fought for control of her glass, and the contents ended up in Hermione's lap. Hermione leapt out of her seat from the coldness of the drink and gasped loudly. Ginny thrust the few meager cocktail napkins at her as she fretted over the state of her skirt.

"I'll be back," she replied. Hermione stormed off towards the bar fighting back tears that she refused to let fall. It was silly crying over a spilled drink, after all. "Do you have any paper towels or a flannel?" she asked once at the bar. "Maybe a time machine so I could have said no to this whole stupid night?"

Draco smiled warmly at her and handed her the damp rag he used to clean bar glasses. "It's all I have," he replied apologetically. "Although, that time machine could be handy."

She muttered her gratitude as she scrubbed the drink from her skirt furiously. But no matter how much she rubbed at it, the stain was stubbornly set. Sighing, she plopped down on a stool and threw the rag down on the bar top. "It's ruined," she proclaimed, angrily setting her chin on her fist.

Draco moved in front of her, resting his arms on the bar. He noticed the way her brown eyes shimmered from unshed tears. Deciding the best tactic was distraction, he said, "You know, I really like that store you work in."

"Own," she corrected, staring down at his forearms. The Dark Mark he once bore was no longer there. "I'm Granger. Well, Hermione Granger, but the name of the store is..."

"Yeah, I know, Granger's Book," he finished for her. "I'm Derek Malloy."

"Yeah, I know," she replied, a sheepish blush crossing her cheeks. "I demanded to see your ID today. Sorry about that."

He waved off her apology and glanced over her shoulder to her table of friends. "Aren't your friends going to expect you to go back?"

"That one," she groused, pointed to Lavender, "is not my friend. Could I just sit here a little while longer?"

Draco, or Derek, had no objections, and so they spent much of the night talking. The only lulls came when he had to serve a patron. When last call was announced, Hermione sighed and slipped off of the bar stool. She straightened out her soiled skirt and looked over to her friends' table, which was now empty.

"They left me," she exclaimed irately, turning back to Draco.

"With some moony looking redhead," Draco confirmed. "The one who isn't your friend glanced over here just before they left and shook her head."

Angry tears burned her eyes once more. The strobe lights shut off and the lights came up. The last stragglers on the dance floor vacated and made their way to the exit. She wondered how she would get home now.

"Give me ten minutes to change," he said, as if reading her mind. "We can get a cab." Mutely, she nodded and watched him disappear behind a door.

Being alone gave her time to think, to question his strangely nice behavior. She briefly wondered if life as a muggle was part of his Ministry-imposed probation, but it didn't explain why he seemed not to know her. Answers would have to wait until Monday when she could convince Harry to smuggle his file from the Ministry.

"Ready?" he asked, closing the door to the back behind him. He was dressed in the same hoodie she had seen him in earlier and a fitted black cap covered his light blonde hair.

"Ready," she replied, exiting the bar with him.


	3. Chapter 3

I just had two very long, very annoying conference calls in a row. Then I ate four cookies, because I can't move the furniture at work. Because moving furniture is a tried and true stress reliever in my family. Do you know what another great stress reliever is though? Posting new chapters for you all! (The voice in my head sounded like Oprah when I typed that.)

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><p>Chapter 3<br>The sun had just begun to rise when Hermione made her way from her flat over her store to the shop below. It would be hours before customers would begin to arrive, on either the muggle or wizarding side. But the place needed to be set up, the displays fixed, new inventory shelved. She opened the shades covering the large picture window with her name emblazoned in gold lettering, and let the first rays of sunlight warm her. The street outside was quiet; only a few cars slowly drove down her block. Just as she turned away, a familiar head of blonde hair stopped her.

Slowly, she turned the locks on the door and pulled it open causing the bell above to tinkle. "Dra-Derek?" she inquired.

Seated on the step, he squinted as he looked up at her. "I needed a book," he said quickly. His voice sounded panicked.

Hermione knelt down beside him and rested a hand on his shaking shoulder. "It's half past six in the morning, Derek. What could be so urgent at this hour?" she asked keeping her tone soft.

He pulled her hand away from his shoulder and clutched in between both of his own. "I had this dream that scared the hell out of me," he told her. "I need to know what it means."

She straightened up, tugging on his hands with her free one. "Come inside," she coaxed, trying to make him stand. "I'll make us some tea."

"There's no time for tea, Hermione," he exclaimed, his eyes wild as he spoke. "I need to...please."

Nodding, she led him inside and shut the door behind them. His legs quaked as they walked through the shop. The books he needed were located on the second floor, third aisle. She wondered if she should ask about the dream, but he still seemed too shaken to want to speak. When they reached the second floor, Hermione steered him to a table near the railing that overlooked the first floor while she gathered whatever books she thought could help. It was the first step towards figuring out Draco Malfoy.

When she returned to the table, her arms laden down with tomes, Draco was staring down to the rows of books on the floor below. "I really like it here," he said, never turning back to look at her. She set the books down on the table and sat across from him.

"Will you tell me about your dream?" she asked quietly. "Maybe I could help figure out its meaning."

"I'm running through a castle, out into the woods," he started, turning his head to look down at his hands gathered in his lap. "There's a man in a long black...I don't know. Dress? Cloak? Cape? But he never turns around, never looks at me." He looked up to her then. "I have no idea why I'm following him or where we're going, but I'm terrified. My hands shake, my legs don't work. Every few feet I fall to my knees, gripping my left arm. When I look up, the sky is dark and there's this green, smoky skull with a snake slithering out of its mouth. It's clear for only a few seconds before it dissolves." He looked back over the banister. "And then I wake up."

Had he glanced in her direction, Draco would have seen the disbelieving, wide brown eyes and the way her mouth hung every so slightly open. But he refused to look her way. She cleared her throat, willing the moisture to allow words to come out. "Have you dreamed this before?" she asked. He nodded, keeping his head turned away as if ashamed of his confession.

She knew what the dream meant. It was the night he had attempted to assassinate the beloved headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Albus Dumbledore. Pushing away a small stack of books, she rested her arms on the table. "Derek, sometimes a dream is just a dream," she spoke softly. "This might not mean anything."

"But what if it's a memory?" he demanded, fixing her with the cold, hard stare she had seen so often as a child.

Hermione shrunk back, wincing slightly at his tone of voice. "Memory of what?" she wondered, though she knew that was exactly what it was.

Once more he slumped back in his chair and turned his gaze away from her. "Of my past," he replied wearily. "Of a past I can't remember."

Tense silence permeated their small corner of the bookshop. Hermione's head spun with this new information. It explained so much - why he didn't remember her, why he was working in a bar, why he was so nice to her. He had no idea that he was supposed to hate her for her lack of magical heritage because he had no idea what or who he was.

"What if I was a really horrible person?" he asked. "What if whatever I was running from in that nightmare was something horrible that I had done?"

"Then maybe it's better you don't remember," she reasoned.

He slammed his fist onto the table angrily, causing her to jump back. "Damnit, Hermione! I should know who I am," he exclaimed, the fire in his voice not receding one bit. His eyes finally softened only when he saw the fear that reflected in her dark brown eyes. "I'm sorry," he muttered, rising from his chair. He turned and made his way down the stairs, Hermione hot on his heels.

It wasn't until he reached the door that he spoke again. "You know, the craziest thing about all of this, when I was with you last night everything just felt right."

Her brows furrowed, her hand moving to rest on his left forearm. "What do you mean?"

He laughed mirthlessly and shook his head, his eyes falling to where she touched him. "When you walked up to the bar last night, I had this really fleeting thought that you were different from the rest of the people I meet," he replied. "I don't generally feel comfortable around people, even people I've known for the last two years. That's all I remember, by the way, the last two years. But then you were there and it was instant. The girl from the bookshop, I told myself, you can trust her."

"You can," she assured him.

"I'm not crazy."

"I know." She smiled at him.

"But sometimes I think I might be," he added, rubbing at the back of his neck.

Her smiled widened. "Aren't we all?"

His hand reached for the doorknob, but before he turned it he looked at her once more. "I really do like it here," he told her. "All the books, it's comforting. Do you think maybe I was a librarian in my other life?"

Hermione snorted in a rather unladylike way. "No, I don't think that's right."

The knob turned in his hand and pulled the door open. "Will you come to the bar tonight?" he asked. "I'll buy you a cup of coffee afterwards," he added to sweeten the deal.

A wry smile lit her face, making her eyes shine with mirth. "Because you don't want that creepy lady hitting on you and suggesting she'd like to be your martini shaker?" she guessed.

Draco laughed heartily, the first sign she hoped he was feeling just a bit better. "I don't even know what that means," he muttered. Her cheeks filled with color and he longed to touch them, to feel their warmth under his palm. But he knew he had to restrain himself. There was no sense in scaring off the only person with whom he felt safe. "I just want to hang out with a friend tonight. What do you say? Come keep the crazy man company at a gay bar?"

"I'll see you at eight," she replied.


	4. Chapter 4

I mentioned this on my other story, but just in case some people read this one and not that one (shame on you) I thought I'd re-post it here. Next week I'll be on vacation. That's right, a whole week in Florida attempting to escape the heat and tame my humidity-infused hair. God bless the ponytail is all I have to say. Anyhow, I've just started the packing process, so the decision to take my laptop has not yet been made. Anyone know if you can take a purse and a carry-on onto a plane? That would be helpful to know.

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><p>Chapter 4<br>She would meet him later, but there were things to take care of before then. The first and main task on her to do list was visit Harry Potter. The auror would know, had to know, something about Draco's strange circumstances. Visions of the blond desolately slumped on her doorstep was the fuel to the fire. If anyone could help him, she thought, it would be her.

It was just before noon when Hermione entered the Auror offices in search of Harry. He shared a small office with a man Hermione always mistook for someone else. It was Saturday, though, and his partner wouldn't be there. It lessened her anxiety somewhat about the meeting she was about to have with her best friend, but not by much. Her hand shook as she raised her fist to knock on his door.

"Come in," Harry granted, and she opened the door. Standing in front of his desk, she greeted him softly. "You always do that," he said, putting his signature on a slip of parchment before he looked up.

"Do what?" she asked, confused by his comment.

He smiled. "Whenever you want something you tilt your head to the side, smile, and say 'hey.' So, what do you need?" he inquired.

Hermione took a seat in the chair across from his desk, taking her time to get comfortable. Harry cleared his throat impatiently; a sign she needed to voice her request. "I want to see Draco Malfoy's file," she said so quickly she was sure he hadn't understood her.

"Why?" he inquired, leaning his arms on his desk. One dark eyebrow piqued in curiosity.

"I can't tell you," she replied, earning a frown from the raven haired man across from her. Hermione lowered her head to stare at her hands in her lap, her teeth nervously biting into the right corner of her bottom lip. "Just...I need you to trust me."

"Ginny said you saw him, and that the two of you seemed pretty friendly. Does wanting his file have anything to do with that?" Face turning a soft pink, Hermione nodded. With a sigh, Harry stood and crossed to the filing cabinet. After a few moments of flicking through folders, he pulled one out. "Anyone finds out and I could get in a lot of trouble," he warned her as her hand closed around the folder.

She rose from her chair and hugged her best friend tightly. "Thank you, Harry."

The folder sat on her coffee table, still closed. It wasn't thick, nor was it thin, but it held Draco's story. And that was something she wasn't quite ready to face yet. Instead, she prepared herself for the night ahead.

At ten minutes to eight, Hermione approached the Pink Dragon and flashed her ID to the bouncer. With a smile, he admitted her entrance. The club was already packed as Hermione pushed through the crowd to make it to the bar. Draco was hunched over the bar top staring down intently. As she neared, she noticed the pen in his hand.

"What are you doing?" she asked, taking a seat. When he didn't look up, she pulled the pen from his hand. "Derek?"

His brows furrowed as he glanced from her to his arm before pulling it away from her sight. "It's nothing," he muttered. "Water?"

Hermione nodded mutely, deeply worried by his behavior. He placed a bottle down in front of her and unscrewed the top, careful to keep his forearm away from her. She took a long sip, debating whether or not to say anything.

"It's that symbol from the dream," he said tightly. The Dark Mark, Hermione added only in her thoughts.

"Why did you draw it on your arm?" she inquired, trying to keep her voice calm over the din of the bar.

Draco shrugged and leaned over the bar. "It seemed...right," he answered, looking down at the skull and snake drawing. He pulled back when he noticed a customer. "Told you I was crazy."

He spent most of the night tending to customers, leaving Hermione at the end of the bar lost in her thoughts. All the while, she watched the club goers dance and have a good time while she sat at the bar more miserable than she'd been the night before at the bachelorette party.

At ten o'clock Draco was relieved on his duties and disappeared behind the door to the staff lounge before returning to her. "I owe you a cup of coffee," he said, his mood only mildly improved from two hours prior.

Hermione hopped off her stool and glanced towards the dance floor. "You don't have to," she told him gently. "I came tonight because I wanted to, not because there was a caffeine incentive."

"I'm a man of my word, Hermione Granger," he declared. "And when I promise a pretty girl a cup of coffee, I follow through."

Hermione worried her bottom lip between her teeth, her eyes still refusing to meet his gaze. A small pit of guilt was beginning to form in the deepest depths of her stomach. If left unattended too long, Hermione knew it would grow until it was a gnawing, aching guilt that drove her mad. Though she knew next to nothing about what had happened to him, she knew who he was before this bout of amnesia, and it felt wrong to keep that from him. But, she rationalized, she should know something before breathing a word of it to Draco.

"Hermione?" His voice cut through her thoughts like a knife. "If you really don't want to go, you don't have to. I probably wouldn't want to hang out with a nutter who dreams up weird shit and can't remember anything either."

For the first time she allowed herself to look into his eyes as a small smile formed on her lips. "Are you trying to make me pity you so badly that I accept your offer?" she inquired.

"That depends," he returned her smile with a smirk of his own. "Is it working?"

The smile slipped away as she followed him out of the club. "I'll go with you on one condition," she decided. He stopped to open the door and let her exit first.

"And what is your condition?" he asked.

They made it to the corner when she stopped and touched his left forearm. He winced slightly from the contact, but the worry eased out of his features as she stroked the cloth covered skin with her thumb. "Stop trying to convince me that you're crazy."

With a resigned sigh, he slipped his hand into hers and began the short walk to the nearest cafe. "Deal," he replied.


	5. Chapter 5

Thank you to all of you who let me know that I can take my carry on and my purse. My inner bag lady (because I thought a bad lady was a girl with lots and lots of purses) is very, very happy with that! I was reading Jet Blue's approved items to bring in your carry on, and about half of them could be used as weapons. Who decided razors and matches were safe on a airplane?

Anyhow, thank you to everyone for reading my story. I'm 97% sure the laptop (affectionately named Dory) is coming with me! So, next week, look for new chapters!

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><p>Chapter 5<br>"So, why do you work in that bar?" Hermione inquired, stirring a teaspoon of sugar into her cappuccino.

His posture was perfect in spite of the shrug he gave in reply. "What else am I going to do?" he wondered. "Have to pay the rent and buy groceries, don't I?"

"I'm sure there are other places you could work. Perhaps one that wouldn't require you to remove your clothes," she replied, her tone swotty and borderline condescending.

He leaned forward, resting his arms on the table top. "And what job that doesn't require me to take off my clothes also allows me to amass over three hundred pounds in tips for four hours' worth of work? It's not like I'm stripping for a living, Granger. Don't get your panties in a twist." He leaned back, slumping down in his chair as he fingered the handle of his coffee cup. His eyes were downcast, but he peaked up momentarily to notice the angry red tinge in her cheeks. Her hands squeezed the cup hard, and he was sure she would soon break it. Leaning forward once more, he reached out a hand to hold her wrist. "I'm sorry," he murmured.

Anger forgotten momentarily, Hermione was taken aback. It was the second time Draco Malfoy had ever apologized to her. Except he was no longer Draco Malfoy, not really. This was Derek Malloy whispering words of regret as he attempted to hold her hand. She let go of the mug and allowed him to take hold of her hand.

"No, don't be. I shouldn't have said anything," she returned, intently watching their hands.

Draco squeezed her hand. "Hey, we're friends, right?" he asked, letting a small smile form at the corners of his mouth. Hermione nodded, brows furrowing as she did so. "So, I kind of thought that friends were supposed to share their opinions with one another."

Hermione snorted before correcting herself. "Sorry, you just...when we met reminded me so much of this boy I went to school with. But now, well, you're nothing like him."

"Is that good or bad?" he inquired.

Hermione wondered if his continuing to hold her hand depended on the way she answered his question. "Good," she decided, feeling him hold it tighter. "Definitely good."

Draco smiled and pulled his wallet from his back pocket. He let go of her hand only long enough to pull out a few bills and deposit them on the table. Standing up, he extended his hand to her once more. "Let's get out of here," he said.

"And go where?" Hermione wondered, though she stood and accepted the outstretched hand. He led her out of the cafe in silence, a mischievous smirk on his face as they walked out into the night air. She badgered him as they continued on for two more blocks before hanging a right at the third. He drew to a halt in front of his apartment building, a rundown brownstone with bars fixed over the first floor windows.

He gave her hand a tug and led her up the stairs. "Too soon to see my place?" he asked, inserting a key into the building's front door. Hermione gave no reply as he continued up a flight of stairs and turned right. His door was two down from the stairs.

"Are you planning to seduce me or something?" she asked when he closed the door behind her. "Or do you like to lure women back to your flat, kill them, and bury the body beneath the floor boards?"

Taking her hand, Draco led her to the couch and took a seat. "Actually, what I do is lure the women, seduce them, kill them, and then try on their shoes," he teased. "To be honest, I've never brought anyone back here."

Hermione was taken aback by his confession, but she was careful not to let it show. "So I must be special then," she mused, ducking her head so he wouldn't see her blush.

Draco nodded and caressed her cheek with his free hand. As much as she wanted to turn away from his burning gaze, she was too captivated to do so. She wondered what it would feel like to kiss the boy who hated her. She could touch him, and he wouldn't flinch. He smiled a genuine smile, only for her.

"Ya know, it's been two days, but I feel like I've known you forever," Draco murmured as he leaned towards her.

The familiar sting of tears burned her eyes as she squeezed them shut. Draco's lips were on hers, soft at first but as they grew more comfortable with each other, he deepened it. Hermione moved her hands to his cheeks, cradling his face in her palms.

"Too fast?" he asked, his voice just above a whisper. Hermione opened her eyes to the look of concern on his face. Though her vision began to blur, she could faintly make out his fingers reaching to wipe away her tears. "Hermione, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have..."

With a wave of her hand, she dismissed his apology. "No, I wanted you to do that," she replied, taking hold of his hand. What was there to say next, she wondered as her cheeks heated. Though they had known each other for years as enemies, Hermione had been given a second chance with the memory-erased Malfoy heir. He looked younger now than he had then, with the scowls and sneers all but gone from his expression. He was an entirely different person. "I don't usually do this, you know go home with men I've only just met. Just a bit...nervous."

Draco smiled softly, and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm not looking for anything to happen, especially if you're not comfortable," he replied. "I can take you home, if you'd like."

That was the last thing Hermione wanted. "I'd just worry about you getting home safely," came her excuse. Her head bowed so he couldn't see the blush that filled her cheeks.

"You could stay here," he offered, trying not to sound too hopeful. "My sheets are clean, so the bed is yours. I can take the couch."

"Thanks," she replied, allowing him to pull her off the couch. He led her to his bedroom at the back of the flat and began rummaging through his dresser drawers for something she could wear to bed. Finally he pulled out a plain green shirt and a pair of shorts that could be cinched at the waist. Draco left the room to give her some privacy to change, grabbing his own pajamas to redress in the bathroom. When he stepped into his room, she was already dressed and perched on the end of his bed.

"I feel bad taking your bed away from you," she said, diverting her gaze as a soft layer of crimson colored her cheeks.

He moved over to her and kissed her forehead. "Don't," he murmured in reply. Pulling her to her feet, Draco led her to the side of the bed and pulled back the covers. "In," he instructed, waiting for her oblige before he pulled the duvet up around her. "Now sleep." Hermione rolled her eyes, but shut them when he left the room.

It was hours later that she was roused from her sleep by fitful cries. They came from the living room, and Hermione wondered if Draco was having one of his nightmares. By the time she reached him, a cold sweat had broken out on his forehead, his eyes squeezed tightly together, and he murmured incoherently as his volume rose. Finally, he shot up, his eyes opening, and his breathing labored.

"It's alright," Hermione soothed, sitting down beside him on a narrow space of couch. His arms wound around her with a need to be comforted. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Draco shook his head, his hair brushing against her neck. "Tomorrow maybe," he replied hoarsely. He let go of Hermione and laid back down. "Can you just stay with me until I fall asleep?"

He shifted to widen the space beside him, and Hermione joined him. She reached up a hand to push back his sweaty fringe. His eyes closed as his breathing slowed down. "I'm gonna figure this out, Draco," she vowed just before her eyes closed.


	6. Chapter 6

Hi everyone! So, the computer will be staying home this week. It didn't occur to me that the resort might charge for the use of wifi, and given my internet surfing tendencies, who knows what that bill might look like. So, instead, I thought I'd post a chapter before I head off for sunny Florida. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 6<br>Draco Malfoy's case file was spread open on the coffee table. Hermione's leg fidgeted nervously as she read the documentation regarding Draco's probation. Words like "Obliviate" and "muggle" caught her eye before she reached the end of the document. Five years, she noticed; Draco would be forced to live as an amnesiac muggle for five years. His case would be reevaluated at the end of that time, and his memories might be restored.

Hermione slammed the folder shut angrily. It was an impractical and unjust form of punishment. Draco had been dumped in the middle of a life he knew nothing of and had no way of surviving. The fact that he had a job and a flat were most likely pure luck as the file said nothing of establishing a life for Derek Malloy beyond a name.

Pushing the file away, Hermione rose from the sofa and stood before a bookcase. There had to be a book there that would help, perhaps one that detailed how to reverse a memory charm. She hadn't been able to reverse the one she had placed on her parents before the war, leaving it to the Ministry to aid the war heroine. Deciding that nothing on her personal shelves would hold the answers she so desperately sought, she thought to try her own bookshop.

The magically hidden door to the wizarding bookstore was accessible by a series of wand taps on the brick wall, an idea Hermione had gotten from the Leaky Cauldron. But before she could perform the maneuver, a voice called out to her. Inwardly groaning, she turned around to see Draco walking towards her. The smile he wore wavered slightly as he approached.

"I haven't seen you in a few days," he said when he stood in front of her.

Nervously tucking a stray curl behind her ear, Hermione stammered, "I've, um, been busy." Her gaze averted so she could no longer see the hurt look shining behind Draco's gray eyes. Vulnerability was an emotion that would take some getting used to when displayed by Draco.

He nodded and reached for her hand, which Hermione promptly let him hold. "I'm sorry if I took things too fast," he replied, looking down at their hands.

Hermione took a step closer and rested her free hand on his chest. "Didn't I tell you I wanted it too?" she asked.

"Yeah, but then you left before I woke up." His other hand reached up to rub the back of his neck; an action, Hermione noticed, he performed whenever he was nervous. "I thought maybe I scared you off or something."

"It's going to take more than a good looking man who wants to kiss me to scare me away," she teased as a smile eased onto her face.

Draco sighed deeply and pulled away from her. "I meant the nightmare," he stated tiredly. He moved around her to take a seat on the steps that led up to her flat.

The nightmare hadn't been her reason for leaving. Waking up in the arms of Draco Malfoy had led her to flee just as the sun rose. She had gone back to her flat above the shop, taken a long shower, and cried. It was three days later when she brought herself to finally open his case file. In that time, Hermione had been told that a Derek Malloy asked about her whenever he came in, but she was conveniently out for the day each time.

"I dreamt that I was in this old mansion," he started, cutting into her thoughts. "There were torches and candles lighting the place, and it was so cold. All around there were people dressed in black, like they'd just come from a funeral. And you were there. And all you could do was scream and cry like you were being tortured.

"But then you were there when I woke up, and you were alright," he concluded with a sigh of relief. "I probably would have knocked on every door in England to make sure you were okay if you hadn't stayed the night."

With tears in her eyes, Hermione sat down beside him and wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sorry I left," she murmured, pressing her lips to his cheek.

His left arm wound around her waist. "I've had dreams about that place before, you know," he stated, staring off at the wall opposite them. "Before, I used to wonder what it would be like to grow up in that house, like it was my childhood home. I always hoped that the woman with the long blonde hair was my mum. I've had some good dreams about that place until that night. I don't think I want to have lived there after that dream about you."

Hermione could feel her heart constrict in her chest. She had answers, the answers he so desperately sought. The only mystery left to be solved was how to give him back his memories. And he would hate her again once he had them. Derek Malloy, the man who had been so easy to fall for, would turn back into Draco Malfoy. Like Cinderella, the clock would chime midnight and the magic would fade, leaving behind only the remnants of a wonderful time.

"Hey, Mione, you've got a guest at the front counter," Anna, one of her employees, stuck her head into the alcove to tell her.

Hermione groaned softly when Anna disappeared. She pulled away from Draco and stood, but he caught her hand before she could leave. Seeker's instinct, she thought ruefully.

"Could I come by after closing?" he asked hopefully. "I'm not working tonight, and I've missed you."

She nodded, smiling contentedly at the blond before her. "After eight," she replied. "If you're good, I might let you help me restock the shelves."

"Such a tease," he joked, rolling his eyes as he stood up. Hand in hand, they left the curtained-off area and entered the shop. "See you at eight," he murmured, kissing her goodbye.

Her hand felt cold when he let it go, and Hermione could help the small frown that tugged down the corners of her lips. Pushing away all thoughts of Draco momentarily, she turned to her right to go to the front counter. Ron leaned against the far end of the counter with his back to her. He seemed to hear her approach and slowly turned around to face her.

"Hey, Mione," he greeted her nervously. "I think my eyes are playing tricks on me. Did I just see you with Draco Malfoy?" There wasn't a hint of jealousy in his question, which greatly surprised the witch.

"That's Derek Malloy," she replied, crossing her arms over her chest. "I can see where you might get confused though."

A scowl formed on Ron's face and he took hold of her arm to lead her to her office. When the door was locked and charmed so no one could hear them, Ron took a seat in front of her desk, waiting for her to join him before he spoke. "Harry told me you asked for Malfoy's file," he said when she sat down behind her desk. A cautious nod of her head confirmed what Ron said. "So then you know what happened to him."

"The Ministry wiped his memories and dumped him in the middle of muggle London," Hermione summarized bitterly. "What a terrific plan."

Sighing, Ron pinched the bridge of his nose. "The Ministry did what they thought was best," he started, but Hermione immediately cut him off.

"Don't give me that," she said, anger building up inside of her. "Draco wasn't posing any kind of threat to our world. He was a scared sixteen year old whose family was being threatened by a mad man. Wouldn't you have done anything to protect your family?"

Ron shook his head. "I did what I had to do, same as you and Harry. But what Malfoy did," he sighed, running a hand through his red locks, "was illegal."

There was no refuting that - the cursed necklace he'd given to Katie Bell, the Imperius curse he used on Madame Rosmerta, the poisoned mead which Ron consumed. And even though each attempt proved to be a failure, Draco still committed each crime.

"Ron, what about his parents?" she asked. "I know Lucius is in Azkaban, but does Narcissa know?"

He nodded. "She was at his probation hearing, and warned that she was to stay away from him during the five years," he explained. "She got off pretty easy for saving Harry. I guess the Wizengamot figured not being able to see her precious baby boy for five years was punishment enough."

Hermione scowled and leaned forward, resting her arms on the desk. "I need to know how to reverse the spell," was her softly spoken request.

Ron shook his head. "I could lose my job, Mione. Besides, he's got three more years, and they'll reverse it."

"Maybe," she pointed out. "Maybe they'll reverse it. In the mean time, Draco goes through three more years of the hell of not knowing who he is. He's having these nightmares, memories of his past. They're going to drive him insane, Ron."

"Hermione, you can't tell him," he warned. "Don't go digging through your books for a counter charm. Don't let on that you knew him before. Just...if you're gonna be with him, then you have to pretend that you know nothing."

Rising from her chair, Hermione shook her head. "You know I can't do that."

Ron, too, rose and moved around the desk to hug her. "I know, but it was worth a try."


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7  
>There was one customer in the shop when Draco arrived just before closing. The girl had her back to Draco as she stood in front of Hermione. All he saw was a slim figure and black hair. But something about her seemed familiar. He caught Hermione's eye and smiled. She returned it and murmured something to the girl, who turned to glance at him. The raven-haired girl smiled a friendly smile as if she recognized him as well. The two women closed the short distance between them and him, and Hermione greeted him with a kiss on the cheek.<p>

"Derek, this is my friend, Pansy Parkinson," she said, hoping the sight of an old friend would trigger a good memory that had been taken from him. Hermione watched as they shook hands and exchanged greetings.

Draco looked at Pansy curiously, as if trying to place her. "It's nice to meet you," he told her, giving up hope of placing her.

Pansy flashed him a brilliant smile and said, "You too. Derek, was it?" Draco nodded and released her hand when he realized he still held it. She turned to her friend and spoke in a volume low enough for only Hermione to hear. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. I want details."

The couple silently watched Pansy leave before Hermione locked the door behind her. Turning around, she leaned her back against it and smiled at Draco. But he seemed perturbed as she watched him. "How do you know her?" he asked as his eyes darted around the shop.

Hermione cleared her throat. "We went to school together," she explained. "Honestly, we hated each other back then. And then, about a year after school was over, we ran into each other. Literally. It was in the 'Military History' aisle."

"And you've been friends ever since?" he inquired, sounding a bit more than skeptical.

There were things Hermione omitted - the death of Pansy's father, the parents she had lost after having the memory charm reversed, the fact that both women cried at the sight of one another. They had talked for hours in her office after the run-in, exchanging tales of woe and making apologies for past transgressions. Then they became friends.

"Pretty much," Hermione said in reply. She grabbed a stack of books to be shelved and moved to the appropriate aisles; all the while Draco followed behind. "I guess we just realized we had more in common than we thought."

He took half the stack and silently began shelving books. The woman - Pansy - seemed to trigger something within him. What it was, though, he couldn't seem to put his finger on. There had been an instant feeling of comfort when he shook her hand. Compassion had shone in her dark blue eyes as she smiled at him. It was almost as if she were a long lost friend who'd come back into his life.

"Do you think I know her?" he asked, cringing when he heard the words reverberate back into his ears.

A book fell from Hermione's hand and she bent to pick it up. Her hair obscured the shocked expression she wore, and she prayed Draco hadn't seen the way her eyes widened upon hearing his question. When she pushed her hair behind her ear she noticed Draco had knelt down beside her.

"What happened?" she asked softly. "I mean, do you know how you lost your memories?"

Draco shifted into a seated position, his legs stretched out in front of him and his back against the rows of books. "All I remember is waking up in a hospital. The doctors asked me question after question. Who I was, where I lived, what the year was. And I didn't have a single answer. The ID in my wallet was the only thing anyone had to go on. I had a name, a birth date, and nothing else.

"They released me two weeks later," he continued, pushing a hand through his hair. "There was a nurse who looked after me who had a friend with a cheap flat for rent. She'd been there when I was brought in, and I guess she felt sorry for me. The friend with the flat also knew that the Pink Dragon was looking for a bartender, so he sent me there a few weeks after I moved in."

"And no one ever..." She couldn't find her voice long enough to finish her question.

Draco shook his head. "I waited. Every day I was in the hospital, and the door would open, I prayed it was my parents or a friend. Just anybody who could give me some answers. No one's ever come. For two years, I've walked around hoping that some strange face in the crowd would stop me and tell me everything." He heard Hermione shift beside him and felt her arms tangle around his left bicep before her head rested on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry," she murmured, her voice sounding choked up with tears. And it wasn't just for what he'd gone through; it was also an apology for the guilt she felt. She had the power to tell him everything, but he'd probably think her crazier than he thought himself. Ron's warning played in her mind - pretend you know nothing.

"I had another dream last night," he told her, resting his head atop her own. "It was a good one this time. You and I were flying over a...I don't know, football field or something. We were on a broom like a couple of witches, or whatever the male equivalent is. You were so scared that you held onto me tightly. But when I finally got you to open your eyes and see the stars above us, it was magical."

Hermione's head snapped up, bumping Draco's as she stared at him with wide eyes. She heard him groan and ignored the pain in her own head. It wasn't a memory, but was still a glimpse of what his life as wizard could have been. Oftentimes, when he talked about his dreams she wondered if there was more that he held back. It would have been a relief to know that they were in the same boat as there was so much she hid from him.

Draco chuckled. "Sometimes it feels weird when I tell you stuff like this," he said. "But I tell you anyway, all of it."

His words did nothing to mollify guilt. Instead of replying, she rested her head against his shoulder once more. She wondered how much longer she could get away with being with him. Three years was the most optimistic bet. If all went well, in three years' time Derek would be Draco again. But if the spell could be reversed somehow, she'd lose him sooner than that.

Strong feelings had developed between the pair in such a short amount of time that Hermione wondered if it would be better to cut ties sooner rather than later. It would hurt, surely, but it would be worse three years down the line. Tomorrow, she would talk to Kingsley Shacklebolt, the Minister of Magic, and plead Draco's case. But tonight, tonight was for Hermione and Derek.


	8. Chapter 8

Back from Florida! It's June, I live in New Jersey, and today I had to wear a jacket. It almost made me miss the weather down south. I got to go to the Harry Potter park in Universal, and it was beyond awesome! I've become something of a butterbeer addict, going so far as to make my own at home. And it's not as hard as I thought it would be. If I remember, I'll post the few pictures I took to my tumblr at some point.

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><p>Chapter 8<br>Hermione stood nervously outside of the Minister's office. Pansy sat on the small bench beside the door watching as her friend turned and turned, all the while wringing her clammy hands. Both women had Draco's best interest at heart, and Pansy knew that, if Hermione could only calm herself down, they could win. But the raven-haired witch also knew that if Draco's memories were reversed, Hermione would lose him. It was a double edged sword, but Hermione's Gryffindor-inherited loyalty and righteousness led them there. She would see the matter through until the very end, her heart be damned.

The door opened, Kingsley Shacklebolt standing on the threshold. He smiled warmly at the witches and beckoned Hermione inside. Pansy gave her hand a squeeze for luck as she passed, and once the door closed, sat back to wait. What she wouldn't give for a pair of Extendable Ears at that very moment.

Inside the office, both parties sat; Kingsley behind his desk and Hermione in the brown leather armchair in front of it. She desperately pleaded that her voice work and remain strong.

"It's been awhile since we've seen each other," Kingsley commented in a friendly manner that seemed to abate her nerves, if only slightly. "How's your shop?"

"Busy," she replied.

The Minister nodded in understanding and leaned forward, his arms folded atop his desk. "Well, now I'm sure a busy woman such as yourself didn't come here just to exchange pleasantries," he said, getting right down to business. "Harry informed me that there was an important matter you wished to discuss."

Her heartbeat tripled its pace inside her chest as she knotted her fingers together. Stay calm, she told herself, just stay calm. "It's Draco Malfoy, sir," she replied, hoping her voice didn't waver as much as it did inside her head. "We've, um, become reacquainted in the last couple of weeks."

"You know about his probation, I assume?" he inquired, leaning back in his chair. Hermione nodded, her brows furrowing along with Kingsley's, though more in confusion than anger. "The few younger Death Eaters that were rounded up after the war - Gregory Goyle, Draco Malfoy, Thomas MacNair - were given probationary sentences of five years."

"And stripped of their memories," came her interrupting outburst.

Kingsley sighed. "You must understand, Miss Granger, the council decided it was for the best. Each of the boys were given false memories to aid them in their lives as muggles."

"And yet Draco has no memories of this alternative life."

The Minister nodded. "His caseworker mentioned that," he stated solemnly. "We don't know why the memories didn't take. Draco's mind is a strong one. It's possible that he was able to force them out in his attempt to hold onto the old ones."

As her anger retreated, Hermione set an imploring look upon her face. "Is there any chance you and the council would consider reversing the memory charm?" she asked, a pleading look in her brown eyes. "He's suffering." She explained the dreams, the incident with the Dark Mark drawn on his arm, and the fact that he thought himself insane.

Kingsley's face was a mix of pity and understanding, and just a hint of guilt. He took his time to consider her words. That Hermione Granger was defending the likes of Draco Malfoy meant the situation had to be serious.

"It's unusual that we would end a probation sentence early," he started, but held up his hand when her mouth opened. "I will speak with the Wizengamot, and hopefully come up with a solution we all approve."

Hermione rose from her seat and smile graciously. "Thank you," she replied, shaking his hand before exiting the office. Her mind reeled from their conversation as she shut the door behind her. It was moments later that she noticed Pansy followed her down the hall to the lifts. "Oh, sorry," she murmured as they stepped in.

Pansy waved it off. "It must have been an intense discussion for you to be so lost in your thoughts," she commented as the lift took them to the Atrium.

Hermione nodded, but said nothing else until they were out of the Ministry. They walked to the nearest Apparition point and disappeared with a crack into her living room. Hermione left Pansy there to put on the tea kettle. She took her time, letting the words mull over in her mind, as she prepared two mugs. The kettle whistled loudly a minute later, startling the young witch to the point that she dropped the sugar bowl. It shattered around her feet, sending the sugar cubes ricocheting around the small room. Hermione cursed and yanked her wand out of her sleeve to clean up the mess.

Pansy entered just then, having heard the crashing sound of ceramic against linoleum. "You okay?" she asked, assisting with the clean up. Hermione nodded, remaining silent until each cube and each piece of the bowl were deposited in the rubbish bin. With their task complete, Pansy pulled Hermione over to the table and sat her down. "Okay, it's killing me. I've never seen you so frazzled. What did the Minister say about Draco?"

Hermione sighed, blowing a piece of hair off her forehead. She told her friend, verbatim, what Kingsley had told her about Draco's probation and the others who were sentenced to the same fate. She explained that the rest were getting along just fine in their new lives, but she wondered what would happen when the five years were up. These men would be returned to their old lives as wizards. Perhaps they would gain a new respect and appreciation for muggles, or they would become even more resentful of them.

"But what about Draco's particular case?" Pansy pressed, no longer able to maintain any semblance of patience.

"They'll discuss it, perhaps come up with a new sentence," Hermione replied with a derisive shake of her head.

"What are you thinking, Hermione?" Pansy wondered.

"I'm thinking they'll erase his memories again and try to implant new ones. They'll do it in hopes that this time it takes," she stated. "That might be more problematic than letting him be. The damage it could do to him...I just need to figure out how to reverse it myself."


	9. Chapter 9

Once again, I want to say thanks for the reviews and favorites! I'm working on something new (surprise!) I haven't gotten very far, but I should have the first chapter posted this week. I'm moving cubicles at work, so who knows how long that process will take. But you all come first, far before my seat placement at work.

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><p>Chapter 9<br>The Pink Dragon was relatively quiet when Hermione arrived the next night. Grigg, the bouncer, let her right in with a smile and a kind greeting. The music played in the club, but not as loudly as it would in an hour. Draco stood at his station behind the bar. There was a smile of laughter on his face as he leaned in close to speak with someone. Though the stranger's back was to her, Hermione could have sworn that she knew the man. He was tall and lean, dressed impeccably in a black blazer and pants, and his skin had an olive glow. She would bet her entire vault at Gringott's that the man was Blaise Zabini.

Indeed, she was right. She took a seat on her usual stool and waited for Draco to notice her. It was Blaise who pointed her out, and the smile Draco wore grew as he approached. "Hey, you look nice," he greeted her, pressing a quick kiss to her lips. "You always look good in red."

Hermione glanced down dubiously at her plain red t-shirt, but thanked him for the compliment anyway. Looking sideways, she caught Blaise staring at them. "Who's your friend?" she asked.

Draco beckoned Blaise over with a wave of his hand. He made the introductions and smiled when they shook hands. "We met about two years ago, just after I moved into my flat," the blond explained. "Blaise lives a floor below me."

Hermione nodded, suspiciously narrowing her eyes on the Italian. "So, what do you do, Blaise?" she inquired, turning her full attention to him.

The former Slytherin was cool under the pressure of her intense gaze. "I'm a student," he answered automatically, though it didn't sound like a lie.

"What are you studying?"

"History."

"Close to finishing your degree?"

"One more year."

The pair stared each other down until Draco cleared his throat. Hermione turned and cast a sheepish smile in his direction. "The two of you done?" he asked with an amused lilt in his voice. Hermione nodded. "Good. I have to get another case of water from the back. You two will be fine without me, right? No more interrogations?"

"We'll be fine," Blaise assured him. It wasn't until Draco disappeared behind the curtain that Blaise took a seat on the stool beside hers.

"You're his caseworker, aren't you." It came out as more of a statement than a question, and her voice was flat.

Blaise sighed. "I am. I asked to be assigned to Draco when Shacklebolt gathered a group of us for the task. He was one of my best friends, and the Ministry... Well, I don't agree with what they've done, but at least I could be around to help him."

Hermione swivelled to her left to look at his profile. "Why hasn't he mentioned you before today?" she wondered.

"How did you know that he had a caseworker?" he retorted. When she gave no reply, he let forth a small, mirthless laugh. "You're Hermione Granger. What don't you know?"

Her eyes wandered to the curtain and saw nothing, assured that Draco wouldn't be back yet. "I don't know how to reverse the memory charm," she replied with a sad sigh.

With a sigh, Blaise turned to face her. "I'm not sure this helps, but I don't know how to do it either." They exchanged a mutual look of helplessness before settling back into silence.

Half a minute later, Draco reappeared and set the case down under the bar. He pulled out two bottles and placed them in front of his friends. The tension and silence that surrounded them was thick. It wasn't until Hermione excused herself for the ladies' room that the air felt a bit lighter.

"She's nice, right?" Draco asked.

He always seemed happier with Hermione around, Blaise noticed. He nodded politely in response. "What's going on there?"

Draco shrugged and wrapped his arms around his bare chest. "We're friends, but I think it's slowly drifting towards something more," he replied sounding hopeful. "At least I think it is. I know I want it to be."

Blaise glanced quickly behind him before turning back to the blond behind the bar. "Don't you think you might be rushing into this? I mean you hardly know this girl."

Sighing, Draco picked up a wet bar glass and began to dry it; anything for a distraction. Hermione had become a little slice of sanity in his crazy world. He often found himself forgetting that he remembered nothing of his past when he held her hand. Visions of a future sprang to mind when he kissed her. She calmed him, made him see himself as something other than an amnesiac lunatic.

Setting the glass down, he picked up another. "I know enough," he answered. Hermione returned then just as the crowds were beginning to fill the club. Blaise took it as his cue to leave and said goodbye to Draco before asking Hermione to step outside with him. Silently, she followed him to the alleyway between the bar and the cafe next door. The sun had set and the night air grew colder as they approached the winter months. Blaise pulled off his jacket and draped it around her shoulders.

"Thanks," she mumbled, pulling it tighter around herself. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

Blaise tilted his head to the side, not one hair moving out of place, and shot her a look that answered her question. He leaned back against the brick wall of the cafe, arms crossed over his chest, and his left leg bent at the knee to rest on the wall. He was the picture of comfort; a stark contrast to the shivering witch who clutched the lapels of the too large blazer around her.

"I saw Pansy yesterday," he commented in his usual breezy way, his words conveying that he knew about her visit to the Ministry. "I hadn't realized the two of you were friends. Although, I guess you have a lot more in common now than you did in your Hogwarts days."

Brown eyes narrowed on the unflappable Italian. "Is the Ministry spying on me now?" she inquired. She had half a mind to throw his jacket in the mud.

"Pansy and I still talk occasionally," he informed her. "The four of us all have something in common, you know."

"What's that?" she bit out.

"We've all lost family because of this war," he answered sadly. He sobered quickly, his voice returning to its normal timbre. "Draco's the worst off, if you ask me. He thinks he's found something in you, something he hasn't found in anyone in the past two years. The way I see it you've become sort of a placeholder for the family he's lost. And I know he's going to try to hold onto you until this is all over."

A lump had slowly begun to form and grow in her throat, and Hermione desperately tried to swallow past it. Draco had become an important part of her life over the previous weeks, but Blaise's words made it sound to her as if he were falling in love with her. Her only goal had been to help him after seeing him so broken that morning on her front step.

"You don't feel the same way," Blaise stated, shaking his head to show his disappointment. Her lack of reply seemed to give Blaise his answer. Pushing himself away from the wall, he moved closer to her. She handed him back his jacket and returned to the club.

The bar was surrounded by sweaty, thirsty patrons, each trying to catch Draco's attention. But he only had eyes for her when she neared. He gestured to the other bartender and left his post.

"I think I'm gonna head home," she told him, unable to meet his concerned eyes. For the briefest of moments, she forced herself to look at him. The gray eyes that stared back at her had suddenly gone empty. It was a look that reminded her of the old Draco, and she shivered.

"Did Blaise say something?" he asked, taking a step closer to her. His hand stroked her arm, and Hermione instinctively moved closer to him.

"I'm just a bit tired," she replied knowing it wasn't completely a lie. Draco nodded to show that he understood and cupped her cheek. "Come by the shop tomorrow?"

He leaned down and gently ghosted his lips over hers. "I'll see you then."


	10. Chapter 10

Hi guys! Here's a chapter to hold you over for the weekend. I wanted to address a question I was asked by Vigilante3. I've written up to chapter 17, and should have maybe two or three more after that. So, there's plenty more to come in this saga!

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><p>Chapter 10<br>The Burrow was always noisy. It was a fact of life that when a couple, their seven children, spouses, and grandchildren crowded into one place, the volume was through the roof. On any other day, Hermione wouldn't have minded it. She wouldn't have minded the children running around or the stifling heat that simmered in the kitchen as Molly Weasley slaved away over the stove. She wouldn't have been at all bothered by the Quidditch talk or the flashing of engagement rings.

But today was not one of those days.

Today, she just wanted a little peace and quiet. It was her first visit back to the Burrow following her break up with Ron, and awkward was a vast understatement. Everyone had been more than welcoming and friendly, Ron included. But she felt like she played the part of the outsider. Even Harry, who was not a Weasley, was preparing to marry into the large family. There was nothing and no one truly linking her to the brood, not anymore.

The couch cushion sunk beside her, alerting Hermione to the new presence of Ginny. "You've been quiet," she observed, frowning when Hermione's gaze did not reach hers. When Hermione gave no response, the younger witch continued. "Harry and Ron told me about Malfoy. It seems like an awfully harsh punishment. On the other hand, he did some terrible things."

"Because his family was being threatened," Hermione replied emphatically, throwing up her hands. "I'm not saying it was right to let in the Death Eaters or hurt Katie and Ron. So many people were...but he was trying to save his parents."

Ginny's brown eyes widened at her surprising defense of their childhood foe. "I'm sorry," she murmured, backing away from her friend.

With a sigh, Hermione shook her head. "No, I'm the one who should be sorry," Hermione stated. "Draco's just a sensitive subject."

"Do you have feelings for him?" Ginny asked, resting a comforting hand on her friend's shoulder.

"It can't last," Hermione stated downtroddenly. "He'll get his memories back eventually, and even if he can see past my blood, he'll hate me for having kept so much from him."

Ginny wrapped her arm around the older witch's shoulders. "Or maybe he'll see that it was you who helped him get his memories back, and his feelings towards you now won't change then," she suggested hopefully.

"Yeah, maybe," Hermione muttered, but she wasn't convinced that Ginny could be right. "He told me about another dream he had, about getting the Dark Mark."

Gasping, Ginny pulled back to stare wide eyed at her friend. It had come as something of a shock to the younger witch that Draco had once even possessed the foul mark. "Does Harry know about these dreams?" she wondered when she finally found her voice.

Hermione nodded quickly. "Well, most of them anyway," she conceded. "I told him everything just before he set up my meeting with Kingsley. As much as I want to help Draco, I know I can't do it without Harry."

Ginny nodded her understanding and rose to her feet. "It's good that you involved the boys," she said softly, pulling Hermione to her feet. "At least, if things go sour with Malfoy, you'll still have your friends. Are you seeing him again soon?"

"Tonight."

Hours later, those words played through Hermione's mind as she readied herself for her evening with Draco. For the first time in their short friendship, they would not spend their night at the bar nor the coffee shop near Draco's flat. With a devilish grin, he had informed her to dress nicely because he had the night planned out. Hair pulled back into a low bun, she slipped on a sleeveless, knee length black dress and ballet flats.

"Hope this is good enough," she muttered when the doorbell rang.

"You look lovely," Draco complimented when she opened the door. He greeted her with a kiss and entered her flat. With a blush in her cheeks, she thanked him and asked what their plans were. In return, she received a cheeky smile. "I'm not telling," he said, taking her hand.

Together, they strolled hand-in-hand through the crisp autumn air until they reached a small Italian restaurant tucked away in an alley. Hermione shot him a dubious smirk as they approached the front door.

"Trust me, it's the best Italian food in London," he told her, opening the door for her. The air was rich with the smells of fresh baked bread, homemade pasta, and tomatoes. Candles lit the small restaurant that was occupied by only two other couples. Soft violin music played around them as the hostess seated them. They silently perused the menu for a few moments before setting them aside.

"I think I love this place," Hermione stated, smiling brightly at the man across from her.

"You haven't even tried the food," Draco responded with a soft chuckle. He reached across the table and took hold of her hand. "You'll drop the 'I think' once you have."

They spent the evening in quiet conversation over dishes of pasta and fish as the wine flowed. When the check arrived, Draco quickly snatched it away with Seeker's speed before Hermione could reach for it. After slipping a few notes into the billfold, he took her hand once more and led her outside. The temperature had dropped significantly, sending a chill through Hermione's body. Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her into his side for warmth.

"I really love that place," she sighed, leaning into his side.

"I really loved being there with you," he replied, stopping them near the Thames. After being in the soft glow of candlelight, the bright lights of the buildings surrounding them caused the pair to squint. "I um, I know dinner's not some magical evening, but being with you made it really special."

Hermione smiled, fighting to keep her cheeks from flushing. "I've had a nice time too," she murmured, feeling him draw her closer. His head lowered, eyes closed, and lips softly brushed against her own. "I like doing that too," he admitted with a lazy smile as he rested his forehead against hers.

"Me too," Hermione whispered.

"Is, um, is it too soon to ask you..." he breathed out a nervous sigh.

"Ask me what?" she wondered, stroking the sides of his stomach.

Draco turned his head away, catching the shimmering lights of the Eye. "To be my girlfriend," he mumbled, tightening his arms around her waist.

Emotions warred within her. She was happy and apprehensive, and just a touch saddened by his question. She could live in the moment though, and accept his proposal. Or she could be Hermione Granger, the girl who always thought ten steps ahead, and break things off right then and there. But she wanted him, wanted to see where their relationship went, wanted to further get to know the new Draco Malfoy.

"No, Derek, it's not too soon," she said before giving it any more thought. He turned his head back to look at her, wide eyed and smiling brightly. Lifting up on her toes, she brought her mouth to his in a kiss.

When they pulled apart, Draco shook his head. "You know, you're the first girl I've kissed," he admitted. "I mean, probably not in my entire life, but of what I can remember. You're the first," he added.

"It's an honor," she replied, kissing him once more.


	11. Chapter 11

The last chapter got some amazing responses, so thank you all! I've got one more chapter (maybe I'll add an epilogue) left to write. I spent a good chunk of my weekend writing, while at the same time watching movies. Josh Hartnett's hotness completely blinds me to the historical inaccuracies that are the movie "Pearl Harbor". Man, where has his career gone?

Anyhow, I was going to post the next chapter of "An Awfully Big Adventure", but I'm kind of waffling on which way I want to go. I can't decide if I want to fast forward time (as I'm wont to do in my everyday life) or take things slowly as the characters work out their relationship. If anyone is reading both stories, let me know what you think.

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><p>Chapter 11<br>Sleep was no friend of Hermione Granger. It was quarter past five in the morning when she awoke, anxious for her meeting with the Minister. Kingsley's owl had arrived just as Hermione stepped through her front door following her date with Draco. The high she had been on with Draco came down the minute she finished reading the letter. A week's time had passed between then and now, and time had done nothing but make her more nervous. Deciding sleep planned to allude her, Hermione forced herself from the comfort of her bed and set about preparing for the day.

An hour later, she was seated before the Minister of Magic. Butterflies flapped about in her stomach as she waited for him to proceed. Kingsley always had a kind, warm smile for her, but it did nothing to allay her fears. She had weighed out the possible outcomes of the meeting, but was unable to decide if they would be good or bad. The Ministry could rule to wipe his memories again, which would erase her from his life. There was also a small chance that they could reverse the charm, at which point Draco would want nothing to do with her anymore. It was a no-win situation for Hermione Granger.

"I know you are anxious, but there isn't much I can tell you," Kingsley told her, snapping Hermione from her own thoughts. "A meeting has been scheduled to discuss Mr. Malfoy's case. I cannot say for certain that things will go the way you hope, Hermione."

She let out a derisive snort before covering it up with a cough. "This meeting - when will it be?" she inquired. "Would I be permitted to attend?"

With a small grin, he replied, "I think that could be arranged. It may help his case to have representation."

The breath Hermione released was a mixture of relief and nervous energy. Draco would be a step closer to his old life if things went the way she hoped. Their relationship might be over before it ever truly started. It was for the best, she reminded herself. Help Draco first, and deal with the consequences later.

"I believe you've met Mr. Malfoy's caseworker," Kingsley continued. "I'll request his presence as well. If what you've told me of Mr. Malfoy's condition is correct, Hermione, there is a definite possibility that the Memory Charm will be recast. Harry tells me you've gotten close to him. I would hate to see you hurt in all of this."

Hermione nodded. "Thank you, Kingsley," she replied politely. "But my feelings in this situation don't matter. I just want Draco to be okay."

The Minister leaned forward, resting his arms atop the desk. "Every once in awhile, it's alright to think with your heart instead of your brain," he spoke solemnly, though he offered her a genuine smile. "I'm sure that is a hard thing for someone as brilliant as you to do. Please know, Hermione, that I will see to it that Mr. Malfoy is well taken care of."

Rising from her seat, Hermione offered her own smile. "Thank you again," she said. "I'll await your owl."

Across town, at a small cafe, Blaise and Draco discussed his latest dreams. Draco had no idea why he told of these things to his friend, but Blaise had a way of pulling out of him whatever he was curious to know.

"We were near this field, like a football field or something. Only, instead of goals there were these huge rings as high as the top of the bleachers," Draco started, shaking his head at the preposterous location. "There were two teams, one green and the other red. I was standing with the green team holding an odd looking broomstick. I was young, maybe eleven or twelve, and I was sneering at this other group of kids probably the same age. Hermione was there too, and I called her a 'mudblood' just before her friend pulled out a stick and told me to eat slugs.

"I think it's the weirdest dream I've had yet," he finished. His gaze cast down to stare at his coffee cup. "What do you reckon a mudblood even is?" Draco wondered, glancing for the first time at Blaise.

"It doesn't sound very friendly," his companion joked. Blaise received an icy glare from the blond and quickly sobered. "Mate, it was a dream. That place you described probably isn't real. Besides, I've seen your flat. You have no idea what to do with a broom."

With a sarcastic laugh, Draco reached into his pocket for his wallet and dropped a few bills on the table to cover their drinks. "You're hilarious, Zabini," he muttered, pushing himself out of his chair. Blaise followed behind him trying to find a way to assuage his friend's notions of insanity.

"Look, all I'm saying is I know you think these dreams are flashes of your past," he replied, stopping Draco's strides with a hand on his shoulder. "But the stuff you've told me about - broom rides and casting spells - it's not real. Any of it. Dreams are just dreams."

"Yeah, that's what Hermione's said too," Draco told him, running a hand through his hair. "She thinks my imagination is too active, or I'm so desperate to figure out who I was that my subconscious is inventing these scenes."

Blaise chuckled lowly. "Well, she's always been brilliant." The words left his mouth before he had time to process them.

"How would you know that?" Draco inquired. His eyes narrowed on the slightly taller man in front of him. "You've met her just the one time."

Nervously, Blaise rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to formulate an answer that would appease his angry friend. "I just assumed," he stated. "What with owning that bookshop and all, she must be brilliant. She looks like a reader."

If it were possible, Draco's eyes narrowed further. It was a terrible excuse and he let Blaise know that, but he let it go.

"Are you seeing her tonight?" Blaise asked as they walked back to their building.

Draco shrugged. It had been three days since he had seen her last; the night of their date. She had had a new excuse each night - family dinner, wedding planning, having to work late - and he wondered what her excuse would be if he invited her to the bar later that evening.

When he gave no verbal answer, Blaise prodded further. "I thought things were going well between the two of you."

"They were...are," Draco replied nonchalantly, as he opened the front door to their building. He held the door for Blaise and followed behind him. "She's just busy. She's got a life too, ya know."

Blaise snorted as he led Draco to his flat. "What would you know about having a life?" he joked, closing the door behind the scowling blond. "Have you met this family of hers yet?" he wondered, pouring a small snifter of whiskey for himself.

Draco took a seat on the sofa and shook her head. "It's not really her family," he replied. "She and her parents had a falling out a couple years back. She doesn't talk about it much. Anyhow, it's a friend's family that she's close to. The one daughter is marrying her other friend, so Hermione's been busy with all of that."

Blaise leaned back against the wall beside the drink cart and smirked. "Maybe it would be a good idea to get to know the people in your girlfriend's life," he suggested, taking one long, last swig of the alcohol.


	12. Chapter 12

I think there may have been a bit of confusion in my author's note for the last chapter. I finished writing the story, but I'm not finished posting the story. Since you all don't live in my head (consider yourselves lucky, it's quite crowded up there) though, that wasn't clear. There are 19 chapters plus an Epilogue, so there's plenty more reading to be done here!

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><p>Chapter 12<br>Granger's Books was a crowded, bustling madhouse when Draco entered the next day. A full four and a half days had passed since he had last seen Hermione, and he would not allow another day of being ignored to pass. From the shop's second floor balcony, he could see the frenzy down below. But most of all, he had a clear view of a frazzled Hermione as she helped several customers find their purchases. In spite of himself, Draco smiled at the sight of her.

Down below, Hermione had no idea she was being watched. Despite the crowd, she was happy to be in her shop. There was a rush of excitement and adrenaline on the busy days that would leave her exhausted hours later. For now, though, she was in her element.

"History and self-help are both upstairs. Fiction is the fifth row to your right," she informed two customers before making her way to the second floor with a third customer. Reaching the top of the stairs, she stopped short. Leaning against the railing, eyes following her every move, was Draco. Looking away from him, she continued on until the customer was ready to pay. Hermione directed him to the check-out counter and waited a beat before joining Draco.

"Haven't seen you in a while," he mumbled, unable to meet her eye now that they stood side by side. He expected some kind of reply, an excuse of some sort, but Hermione said nothing. With a sigh, he pressed on. "You know, Blaise is a really awful human being. Sometimes I can't help but wonder why we're friends. Remember when I told you that I felt an instant connection with you? It wasn't there with Blaise. Sometimes, even after two years, I'm still not comfortable around him."

"Why?" she wondered, finding her voice for the first time.

Draco shrugged and shook his hair away from his eyes. "I don't know. It's the way he asks things, like he's taking notes or something. And he always tries to get me to talk about the dreams even when I don't want to. What if he knows something?"

"Something like what?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding small and suddenly shaky. Turning her head, she glanced quickly at Draco. His face answered for him. "You think he knows who you were."

"It's possible, right?" he asked, turning to face her. With a sigh, Hermione, too, turned. When Draco took hold of her hand, she silently led him down the stairs to her office. It wasn't until the door was shut behind them, that he spoke again. "How is it, in all of London, no one's ever bumped into me and said 'hey, I know you!' Why does no one else know who I am? And if Blaise does know who I was before, why won't he tell me?" With his piece completed, he sunk down into the chair facing her desk. Leaning forward, his head fell into his hands. "I just want to know who I am. Is that so wrong?"

Moved by his anguished pleas, Hermione knelt between his legs. Her conscience battled between doing the right thing by telling him the truth or following the Ministry's decree. One lone tear slipped down his cheek, and instinctively, Hermione caught it. "I have to tell you something," she whispered, cupping his cheek. "Your name is Draco Malfoy and you're a wizard. There was a war. You were on the wrong side, and this...this life is your punishment."

As she spoke, Draco eyes squeezed shut and his teeth clenched together as a searing pain filled his head. He jerked away from her, causing Hermione to fall backwards. It wasn't until her words were exhausted that the crippling pain went away. She hadn't expected such a reaction, but it should not have come as a surprise that the Ministry would take such preventative measures.

"Are you alright?" Hermione asked when his eyes once again opened. He shook his head as he attempted to control his breathing. Getting to her feet, Hermione helped him stand and led him out of the office. Once more, they silently ascended the stairs, this time to her flat. After leaving Draco in the living room, Hermione went to the kitchen to prepare tea. A small white owl flapped its wings just outside her kitchen window. Instantly, she recognized the bird as the Minister's personal owl.

_Hermione,_

_Two days at noon._

_Kingsley_

The kettle whistled as she folded and pocketed the note. Minutes later, she returned to Draco with the tea tray in hand. His eyes were closed and his head reclined against the top of the sofa cushions.

"That was the worst headache I think I've ever had," he murmured. Hermione extended a cup to him and Draco sat up just enough to reach it. He took a hearty sip and sighed. "What was it you were trying to say? I couldn't hear a thing."

Shaking her head, Hermione took a seat in an armchair adjacent to the couch. "It wasn't important," she muttered. For the moment, her answer seemed to appease him.

"I'm sorry," he said, setting his cup down on the coffee table.

Hermione's cup rattled against the saucer beneath it. She stared at him wide-eyed as she asked, "What for?"

"For barging in today. I hadn't seen you in a few days and I missed you," he explained, wringing his hands together. "And now this mess. I shouldn't have taken you away from your store."

"There's no need for apologies," Hermione replied, moving to join him on the sofa. "Sometimes, I get really wrapped up in what's happening in my life that I forget about everything - and everyone - else. It's difficult to admit, but I don't think I'm very good at being a girlfriend. I'm sure Ron would back me up on that."

In a show of comfort, Draco wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled Hermione closer to his side. "I'm not going to hold it against you that you've got a life outside of me," he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. "I just...I want to be a part of it. There's really no one in my life aside from you and Blaise. I don't mean to make you feel guilty or anything. It's just how I feel."

Hermione sighed and leaned her head against his shoulder. She had felt guilty, and not just for the half a week's worth of phone calls she missed. There was no way to tell him who he was without sending him into convulsions. Though she had been busy with work and the wedding, much of her time had also been spent pouring over texts to break the memory charm in case the Ministry ruled against reversal. In the end, though, she was no closer to an answer than when she started.

"Lost in your thoughts again?" Draco murmured, twirling a curl around his finger.

"Harry and Ginny are coming for dinner tomorrow night. I want you to come too," she replied quickly before she could regret the words.


	13. Chapter 13

Happy Monday! Well, it would have been happier if they'd dismissed us after the three hour company meeting this morning. And if my printer worked. I figure I've got a 50% chance of being able to take that printer in a fight. It may come to that. Anyhow, I hope a new chapter brightens up your day!

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><p>Chapter 13<br>"I can't believe you invited him, Mione," Harry bemoaned for the fifth time since he walked through the front door. "And what's worse is you tried to tell him who he was. You realize that if you had succeeded, the Ministry could shut you away in Azkaban."

Hermione sighed as she placed the last plate on the table. His words were unnecessary, and she was tired of hearing them. "Harry," she spoke his name warningly as she set down a drinking glass with more force than necessary, "I don't need a lecture from you on being irresponsible. Besides, the Ministry is meeting tomorrow to discuss giving him back his memories. This could be the last night I have with him."

Harry neared and placed a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder. "I'm sorry, I didn't think of it that way," he murmured.

"I didn't expect you to," she told him, casting a sad smile his way. "I want to believe everything will work out well, but then the practical side of my brain kicks in. There's just no way the Ministry will decide to reverse the memory charm."

Harry took a seat at the table once Hermione walked over to the stove to put the finishing touches on her meal. Ginny had yet to arrive, but was due before Draco. It would give the trio time to discuss what could and could not be said and done around him. The sound of the floo activating startled Hermione as the mashed the potatoes.

"That'll be Ginny," Harry declared, exiting the kitchen to greet his fiancee. They returned a minute later and Ginny began to help with the dinner preparations.

"So, when's Malfoy get here?" she inquired as she searched the icebox for the butter dish.

Hermione groaned. "That's the first rule of tonight - his name is no longer Draco Malfoy," she stated, placing one hand on her hip.

"Sorry, sorry," Ginny replied, holding her hands and the butter dish up in a sign of surrender. The younger witch swore that she wouldn't slip up, nor would she allow Harry the opportunity, upon pain of a bat bogey hex.

"Don't think I won't take you up on that," Hermione threatened playfully as she spooned the newly mashed potatoes into a fresh bowl. The knock on the front door caused the three friends to freeze. "I'll get it," she declared, handing the bowl over to Harry.

The second the kitchen door swung shut, Harry turned to Ginny. "This is going to be weird, isn't it," he commented, setting the bowl down in the center of the table.

"Weird is the understatement of the decade," she replied, patting his arm. The couple exited the kitchen to greet their latest arrival.

Draco and Hermione stood in the doorway, smiles on their faces as they pulled away from their kiss. Hermione's cheeks were tinged pink, a mixture of embarrassment from having been caught and the sheer joy of Draco being so close. She opened her mouth to make introductions, but Harry stepped forward first.

"Harry Potter," he stated, extending his hand to his childhood foe. "Hermione has told us...nothing about you."

Draco laughed and accepted the handshake. "She never shuts up about you. I'm glad I'm not a jealous man. Derek Malloy." He extended his hand to Ginny next. "I remember you - the bachelorette." A blush in her cheeks, Ginny nodded.

"So, dinner's ready if everyone's hungry," Hermione stated, closing the door behind Draco. Harry and Ginny quickly turned towards the kitchen, leaving the other couple alone near the front door. "Weasleys, you should know, are world renowned for their voracious appetites, and Harry's been around them long enough to develop it himself. We should get in there before dinner's all gone." She moved towards the kitchen, but Draco caught her arm and pulled her into him. His mouth pressed against hers, a smile forming on both sets of lips.

"I'm not hungry," he murmured, attempting to deepen the kiss.

Hermione giggled, but turned her head away. "I've got guests," she argued.

"I'm your guest too," he replied, placing a soft trail of kisses along her neck. Her eyes fluttered closed as he moved upwards toward her ear. "No argument?" he whispered, his breath ghosting over the shell of her ear.

"Stop, Drac...Drake," she murmured. Though there was little feeling behind the first word, she was immediately sobered by her slip.

He looked thoughtful when their eyes met. "Drake. I like it," he decided. His arms unwound from her waist and he told one of her hands in his. "Come on, let's eat."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief and allowed him to lead her to the kitchen. Harry and Ginny were already seated, their plates filled. A forkful of roasted chicken and mashed potatoes was halfway to Harry's mouth when they took their seats. Lowering the fork, he shot her a sheepish, apologetic smile. "We would have waited, but Ginny's really hungry," he excused, receiving a well aimed buttered roll to the head. Looking away from the glowering redhead, he mumbled an apology.

Dinner went smoothly after that incident. The dirty plates were removed from the table and deposited in the sink for later cleaning. Just as Hermione was pulling dessert from the icebox, she heard Draco ask, "So, Harry, what do you do for a living?"

She stopped short and watched Harry with wide eyes, afraid that he may slip up. Harry, with a glass of water to his lips, quickly put it back down on the table. He glanced quickly at his worried best friend before turning back to Draco.

"Law enforcement," he answered smoothly. "Joined up right out of school."

"That's where you and Hermione met, right? At school?" Draco asked, accepting the offered slice of cake. Harry grinned and nodded.

"Hermione's brilliant," Ginny commented. Hermione once again sat down and scowled at the younger witch. "Smartest in the whole school," she added, flashing a smile at her friend.

Draco, sensing her embarrassment, took hold of Hermione's hand beneath the table and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "I like a smart girl," he whispered in her ear, causing her blush to deepen.

Having overheard the compliment, Harry snorted. "Nah, you probably wouldn't have liked her," he needled, earning a slap on the back of the head from his fiancee. Turning to face Ginny with wide eyes, he caught sight of, first her look of disapproval, then Hermione's glare. "Sorry," he murmured, returning to his dinner.

The meal passed with stilted conversation, and when dessert ended, Harry and Ginny said their goodbyes.

"Well, that was..." Draco sighed as he shut the front door behind them.

"Awkward," Hermione finished for him.

"Yeah," he laughed, sinking down on the sofa. He beckoned Hermione over, who stood hesitantly near the door. "Harry and Ginny are nice though. He seemed really familiar though," he commented once Hermione joined him.

"Probably just has one of those faces," she coolly replied, resting her head against his shoulder. It was beginning to bother her how easily she could lie.

Draco began to pull away and stand up. "I should probably get home," he decided, though Hermione was sure that he wasn't completely convinced that he wanted to go home.

"Or," she replied, getting to her feet, "you could stay here tonight."


	14. Chapter 14

I promise this isn't the end (you'll see why I say that.) I've started working on something new. Ideas come to me at the strangest of times. This story came to me in the ladies room at work. Not sure why I told you that. Also, not sure why I'm not deleting that as if I never wrote it. Anyhow, once I get a couple more chapters written, I'll start posting it. In the meantime, enjoy the chapter!

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><p>Chapter 14<br>The next morning, Hermione awoke with the sun. The early morning light sneaked in through the curtains, casting a faint glow over her slumbering bed mate. She pressed a kiss to his temple before rising for the day. After dressing, she quietly left the room to make breakfast.

The smell of bacon and the sound of the percolating coffee pot roused Draco from his peaceful sleep. He smiled as he looked around the room; he could most definitely get used to spending the night with Hermione. She stood at the stove scrambling eggs when he entered the kitchen. "Morning," he greeted her, kissing her cheek. "Breakfast smells good. You didn't have to go to all this trouble though."

Rolling her eyes as she turned off the burner, Hermione carried the fry pan to the table and doled out two portions of eggs. "We have to eat, don't we?" she replied, placing the pan under running water before returning to the table with the bacon. "Coffee?" she offered, going back for the coffee pot.

"Oh, no thanks. Just some juice will be fine. I'll get it," he replied making his way to the refrigerator. "What does pumpkin juice taste like?" he inquired, bringing the carton to the table with him.

The fork froze halfway to her mouth. "Oh, uh, like pumpkin," she replied, gathering her wits about her once more. "It's good. You'll like it."

Draco took a seat and poured a glass before tucking into breakfast. "So, what's on the agenda today?" he asked, taking a sip of juice. "Wow, that's pretty good."

"Oh, uh, wedding stuff with Ginny," she replied, smiling softly. "Are you working tonight? Pansy mentioned that it's been ages since we had a girls' night." At this, Hermione rolled her eyes.

Draco flashed a mischievous smirk. "Planning to flirt with the cute bartender all evening?" he inquired before taking a mouthful of eggs. Had he been Ron, he would have shovelled in the eggs as he asked the question. But he wasn't, and for that Hermione was glad.

"That depends on how jealous you'd get if I chatted up Jonathan all night," she retorted, stealing a strip of his bacon.

Draco stuck his fork into her eggs and took a bite. "You're not his type."

"And I suppose you are?" she teased, taking her empty plate to the sink. Draco's cheeks pinked with embarrassment. "You're my type too," she murmured before kissing him.

Draco pulled her down onto his lap and wound his arms around her lithe frame. With a swift brush of his tongue against her bottom lip, he deepened the kiss until both gasped for air.

"We should stop," she murmured, hungrily kissing him again.

"Yeah, stuff to do," Draco replied, pulling Hermione closer.

Hermione moved her head to the side, giving Draco better access to her neck. "No, really, I need to get ready," she moaned as he sucked on the pulse point of her throat.

"Fine," he relented, allowing Hermione to stand. "I need a shower anyhow. A cold one."

Hours later, Hermione found herself in the Ministry Atrium. The meeting with the Wizengamot would begin in under an hour. Blaise waited by the lift for her, and together they quietly descended to the fifth floor.

"Ready to do this?" Blaise asked, stopping outside of the conference room.

"No," she replied with a nervous lilt in her voice. But they entered anyhow, and were greeted by the senior members of the wizarding council. Soon, the meeting was underway.

Hours slowly ticked by as the Wizengamot argued that the charm should be recast, or that Draco should have been thrown into Azkaban along with his father. Three hours had passed before anyone addressed Hermione.

"Forgive me, but I don't understand what you had hoped to accomplish," she stated. "Surely these boys won't be happy when the spell is reversed at the end of their probation. They'll most likely end up resenting the Ministry more, in my opinion.

"But that is besides the point. I ask that you consider ending this experiment now. I've gotten to know Draco, and he's suffering. Suffering because your charm didn't work." Together, she and Blaise explained the dreams and flashes of his old life.

"Miss Granger, is it your opinion that this program has helped Mr. Malfoy in any way?" one council member inquired. "After all, the two of you have become quite close. Would that really have happened if he still knew himself to be a wizard?"

"Anything's possible," she replied, fighting back the sarcastic bite in her words. Taking a breath, Hermione changed tactics. "I saw him during the time he was forced to be a Death Eater. He was scared and had no interest in being a part of that. You all heard the testimony Harry, Ron, and I gave at his trial, so it'll be of little use to repeat it all now. But he was changing long before his trial, and I believe that he could have continued to do so had you not erased his memories."

"Mr. Zabini, as Mr. Malfoy's caseworker, have you anything to add?" Kingsley queried.

Blaise sat up straighter. "I agree with Miss Granger," he replied. "I've been watching Draco for two years now, and I've seen firsthand the way he gets after having these dreams. I fear that if he keeps living this way he could do himself, and possibly others, a great deal of harm."

From the corner of his eye, he caught Hermione watching him. Her features remained schooled, but she seemed to struggle with whether or not to believe Blaise's assessment. Slytherins were a cunning sort who could lie their way out of any situation. If it helped Draco's case, though, she would be glad to have this Slytherin in her corner.

"Well, if you two wouldn't mind stepping out for a moment, we'll deliberate," the Minister announced. The pair complied and waited outside of the conference room.

"Did you mean it?" Hermione asked quietly. "Do you really think he might hurt himself?"

Taking a seat, Blaise shut his eyes and nodded. "Or worse, Granger - he could hurt you," he replied sadly. "There are things I didn't tell them, things about incidences with accidental magic, mentions of names from his old life. The other day we were in a shop and he signed 'Malfoy' on the credit slip. I didn't want any of that to hinder his chances."

Sighing, she sat down beside him. "I tried to tell him the truth," she shared.

"And it didn't work," Blaise guessed. Hermione nodded. "Yeah, I tried that too, in the beginning. And then I spent the next two years listening to him convince himself he was going insane. It wasn't so bad until you came along. That's when it seemed to get worse."

"Great, thanks," she muttered with a frown.

"I didn't mean it in a bad way," he countered. "I just meant that...well, I don't know what I meant. It wasn't intended to hurt your feelings, Granger, just an observation. It could just be a timing thing."

"So, what do you think they'll decide?" she asked, leaning her head back against the wall.

The door to the conference room opened and they both rose. "Looks like we'll find out now," he murmured, guiding her into the room.

When everyone was situated, Kingsley rose to address the room. "Miss Granger, Mr. Zabini, we'd like to thank you for taking the time to speak on Mr. Malfoy's behalf. In light of the testimony presented today, it is this governing body's decision that the charm will be reversed and a new probation sentence will be set after."

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. It was over.


	15. Chapter 15

I don't usually post a new chapter the day after posting, but the last chapter got such a great response. Plus, I also wanted to let you know that I'm considering taking down "An Awfully Big Adventure". I've got a few chapters written, but my heart isn't in it the way it's been in my other stories. But stay tuned because the latest story will probably be posted tomorrow!

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><p>Chapter 15<br>The lights in Hermione's flat were off when Pansy stepped out of the floo. Finding the nearest switch, the room was cast in a soft glow of lamp light, illuminating the distraught girl curled up on the sofa. Pansy rushed to her friend's side.

"What happened?" she asked, panic in her voice.

Hermione, it seemed, saw her for the first time. Pulling another tissue from the box at her side, she told Pansy about the meeting with the Ministry. "It's over. It's all over," she said when she finished.

Pansy moved to sit beside her and put a comforting arm around her shoulders. "You don't know that," she replied softly. "Draco may surprise you."

Hermione snorted and rested her head against the other girl's shoulder. "No, he'll hate me," she argued. "I tried to tell him everything, but it didn't work. He'll get his memories back and hate me for being me. I don't want things to go back to the way the were when we were in school."

"You love him," Pansy surmised confidently, not at all surprised when her friend nodded sadly. "Do you want to skip the bar tonight?"

Hermione lifted her head and sat up straight, letting Pansy's arm fall away. "No," she decided. "In two days' time, he'll be Draco again. It hurts, but I want to make the most of the time we have left."

An hour later, the two witches entered the Pink Dragon. Blaise was seated at the bar, but there was no sign of Draco. He greeted each woman with a kiss on the cheek, but lingered on Pansy a moment longer.

"I didn't expect to see you here tonight," Pansy commented as a blush colored her cheeks from the attention she received.

Blaise shrugged and set his eyes on a tired-looking Hermione. "I figure I'm here for the same reason you are," he replied, taking his seat once more. The bar hadn't yet begun to fill up, so Pansy and Hermione took the free stools to Blaise's left.

Minutes later, Draco emerged from the back room in his usual uniform of tight jeans and little else. A frown marred his features until he caught sight of Hermione. His eyes alighted and a smile flashed momentarily until he saw how downtrodden she looked. Leaning across the bar, he kissed her lips softly. "What's the matter?" he asked.

"Nothing, just tired," she lied, forcing a smile onto her lips.

"Long day of wedding planning?" he guessed, opening up a bottle of water for her. With a sigh, Hermione nodded. "It'll be over soon enough," he added, hoping to alleviate her depression.

But his words had the opposite effect on Hermione. She felt the sting of tears meet her eyes and suddenly felt the need to leave. She excused herself under the pretense of needing air and escaped to the alley between the bar and the cafe next door. The night had grown chilly as they moved further into winter, and she regretted leaving her jacket inside. The back door opened and she turned to face a bare-chested Draco.

"You shouldn't be out here," she admonished, rubbing her cold arms. "You'll catch your death."

"I'll be fine," Draco murmured, moving closer to her. When he was within reach, he carefully rubbed her bare arms to increase her warmth. "Talk to me," he requested.

A step closer and Hermione closed the small amount of distance between them, resting her forehead against his cool, firm chest. Summoning as much courage as she could, she looked up to meet his eyes and smiled sadly. "I love you," she murmured.

A grin broke across his face, crinkling the corners of his steely gray eyes. Tilting his head down to meet her lips, he kissed her passionately. "I love you too," he told her, brushing the tears from her cheeks.

A sob passed Hermione's lips and she had to look away once more. She had heard the words and felt his emotion, but those three little words were like a punch in the stomach. In less than forty-eight hours, he would no longer feel that way about her.

"Hermione, you're starting to scare me," he said nervously. He held her tighter, letting her exhaust her tears before asking for an explanation.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I'm being foolish. Let's go back inside."

Draco shook his head and tightened his arms around her waist. "Not until you tell me what's bothering you," he declared. "I've told you everything. It's only fair that you trust me enough with whatever it is you're holding in. We love each other, and nothing you say will change that."

There were so many secrets she kept, but none she could share with him. He would know it all in two days, anyhow. He would remember that he was a wizard. He would remember his pureblood upbringing and his family's fanatical supremacist beliefs. He would remember that he was supposed to hate her.

"What are you afraid of?" he wondered when she offered no response.

"Losing you," she answered honestly.

Removing one hand from her waist, he brought it up to cup her cheek. His thumb traced a soft path along the smooth skin beneath. "I'm not going anywhere," he assured her.

"You don't know that," came her vague reply.

His hands fell away from her and he took a step back as a sudden realization dawned on him. "Are...are...you're breaking up with me, aren't you?" he asked. His features suddenly hardened as she looked away once more. "Answer me, Hermione. I deserve at least that much."

It wouldn't hurt for very long, she told herself, if she just ended things now. As much as she wanted to remain with him, committed to their fledgling relationship, it wouldn't last. Draco would see to it that things ended between them once his memories were restored. Yes, if she just ripped off the bandage quickly, the pain would be less intense than dragging things out.

"I think so. I don't know," she waffled. Where was her Gryffindor courage when she most needed it? "Yes," she finally decided.

Without another word, Draco turned on his heel and stormed back into the bar. The door slammed shut loudly behind him, and then she was alone. She sat down on an upturned crate and let the rest of her tears fall.


	16. Chapter 16

I thought I would address one question I got in a review. I was asked why my chapters are always on the shorter side. The chapters are always a minimum of 1,000 words, and I try not to exceed 2,000. The reason for this is purely selfish. When I read a story, I like short chapters. I have the attention span of a pre-schooler, especially when it comes to doing stuff on the internet. So, because I like to read short chapters I write short chapters.

On a completely separate note, any advice on slicking hair down (products, wet hair vs. dry)? I just cut it short, and I loved the way Emma Watson wore her hair to the London HP7 premiere year last.

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><p>Chapter 16<br>"Are you going to go down to the Ministry with Blaise?" Pansy inquired two days later. Since the break up, she had refused to leave Hermione on her own, camping out on her sofa in order to provide her friend a little moral support.

"What's the point?" Hermione wondered. She settled down on the sofa with a cup of tea and a novel, intent on spending her day there. "Derek doesn't want to see me, and we both know Draco won't want to see me."

"But he should know that you're the one who made all this happen," Pansy protested, angrily digging her fists into her hips. "You're the reason he's getting back his memories. Even if the Ministry puts him under house arrest or restricts his magic, you still got them to reverse the charm. Draco needs to know that."

"Draco won't care."

Pansy stomped her foot against the hardwood floor. "Stop being so stubborn," she shouted, narrowing her eyes on the brunette. "Merlin, Hermione, once upon a time I would have killed to get Draco to look at me the way he looks at you. He'll remember everything that's happened to him these last two years, everything that's happened with you in the last couple of months. Yeah, he's just as pigheaded as you, but he's just as smart too.

"You have it in your head that he'll hate you," Pansy continued her rant. "Last I checked, you weren't the one who did this to him. I know you think you're doing the right thing because you're Hermione Granger and you're never wrong. But let me be the first to tell you - you're wrong."

Calmly taking a sip of tea, Hermione opened her book and looked down at the page. She heard Pansy's derisive snort just before the crack of Disapparation disappeared her from her flat.

"I'm not wrong," Hermione mumbled to herself.

Pansy Apparated into Blaise's office at the Ministry. "How are you getting Draco here?" she asked once he looked up from the case file open before him.

"Well, if Granger hadn't been stupid enough to break up with him, then I would have used her," he replied sourly, as if he were the wounded party in the split. "As it is, I told him I was going to take him for a liquid lunch. Care to tag along?"

Pansy slunk down into the chair across from him. "Your plan is to get him pissed and then take him before the Minister? It needs work, darling."

Brown eyes rolled as Blaise pushed back his chair and rose. "Fine, one drink," he amended. "And then we'll casually take a stroll here. Maybe he'll be too preoccupied to notice."

Pansy tucked a dark strand of hair behind her ear. "It's probably better that I accompany you. You'll just muck it all up," she grumbled, rising from her chair.

Blaise slipped his hand into hers and kissed her cheek. "And I thought it was because you loved me," he retorted cheekily.

"No, I just keep you around for your looks. You never were very bright," she teased as they exited his office hand-in-hand.

Blaise maintained a hurt expression until they reached the outdoors. Rounding the corner, Pansy dropped his hand when they spotted Draco at a nearby cafe.

"I thought you said it was just the men this time," he groused when he spotted the couple nearing.

Blaise rolled his eyes and held out a chair for Pansy. "Women - can't live with them, can't keep them from tagging along for lunch," he said, taking his own seat. Draco let forth a mirthless snort. "Talk to Hermione lately?"

Gray eyes narrowed on the Italian. "Yeah, two nights ago," he muttered. "She really knows how to trample a bloke's feelings. And for the record, I don't want to discuss her."

"Fine, then let's order," Pansy abruptly interjected, holding her menu so that it blocked her face. Blaise signalled the waiter and they placed their lunch orders. The trio sat in an awkward silence as their drinks and food arrived. No words were exchanged as they ate; Draco wolfing down his sandwich in an attempt to get out of there sooner.

"Slow down. You'll choke," Blaise advised, pushing a pint of ale closer to his friend. Draco took a begrudging sip and continued eating. He breathed a sigh of relief when Blaise and Pansy finally finished a good twenty minutes after him. Blaise slapped a few bills onto the table and rose. "I have to go over to my father's office to pick something up. It won't take long," he announced when Draco and Pansy stood. He moved closer to Draco and whispered, "Then we'll ditch her and get rightly pissed."

Draco, with a roll of his eyes, followed behind the couple as they left the cafe. "She never mentioned that you two were dating," he stated as they walked the two blocks to the visitors' entrance.

"She has a name," Pansy spat back. "And we haven't told Hermione."

They arrived at the phone box, Blaise and Pansy stepping in first. Draco opened his mouth to question their actions, but a tug on his sleeve from Pansy pulled him in with them. Blaise inserted the proper coins into the payphone, and soon they descended into the Atrium.

"What the hell is this place?" Draco asked. All around him, people popped out of green-lit fireplaces, paper airplanes soared overhead, and a man's beard smoked from holding a caged dragon too close.

"Don't worry," Blaise replied, taking hold of his arm to speed up their pace to the lift.

Once inside, Blaise pushed the button for the eighth floor, where the Minister's office was located. Draco continued to stare dumbfoundedly, waiting for one of them to offer an explanation as the gate closed and they moved backwards then down.

"It'll all make sense soon," Pansy said, placing a compassionate hand on his forearm. But Draco wasn't so sure. Nothing in his life, as far back as he could remember, had ever made sense. Why have it start now?

They stepped out of the elevator and silently entered Kingsley Shacklebolt's office. He flashed a dazzlingly white smile at them and directed Draco to a chair in front of his desk. "There's nothing to fear, Mr. Malloy," the Minister told the blond, though his words did nothing to calm his pounding heart.

"What's going on?" he demanded. His eyes widened as Kinglsey picked up his wand and pointed it toward him. "What the hell? I want to go. Now. Blaise, please." His voice had risen to a state of panic. He didn't hear the words spoken, but he suddenly felt lightheaded.

When he awoke on the short sofa half an hour later, Draco took in his surroundings. He had been there before, in that very office. This time he was alone and his hands were not chained together. The door opened, permitting entrance to Blaise, Pansy, and Kingsley. The Minister took a seat behind his desk and cleared his throat.

"Can you tell me your name?" he inquired, quill in hand.

"Draco Malfoy," he replied automatically. He was Draco Malfoy again, he realized. Derek Malloy no longer existed.


	17. Chapter 17

And here comes Draco's reaction! Thanks to everyone for the response the last few chapters have gotten. I especially love the mornings I wake up to 15 emails, all in response to this story. It just starts my day off right. Also, thanks to XEmoCookieX for the hair advice. I'll definitely give it a try!

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><p>Chapter 17<br>"He said nothing," Pansy recapped as she and Hermione shared a pint of mint chocolate chip ice cream. "Shacklebolt laid out the terms of his new probation, and then Draco just left. Blaise escorted him back to that dingy little flat to pack his belongings."

Hermione stuck her spoon back into the container and left it there. As much as she wanted to hear about the afternoon's events, she didn't. She had told herself repeatedly that her actions had been for the best. But the more she told herself that, the less she began to believe it. They didn't have to break up. Perhaps what Pansy had said was true - Draco and Derek could be the same person; the person who loved Hermione and whom she loved back.

"Where will he go now?" she wondered, realizing too much time had passed since Pansy stopped speaking.

"I think he's staying with Blaise. The Ministry doesn't want him back at Malfoy Manor. Blaise said Draco's not too happy about the arrangement."

Hermione nodded, picking up her spoon once more. "And how does that fit into your relationship with Blaise?" she inquired, one eyebrow rising.

The witch stared gobsmacked at her friend. Of course Hermione knew; nothing ever escaped her watchful eye. Pansy shrugged, feeling heat creep into her cheeks and down her neck. She took a large mouthful of ice cream to avoid the conversation she was sure to come.

"It's fine if you want to talk about it," Hermione assured her. "Just because I ended a relationship doesn't mean I don't want to hear about yours."

As much as she wanted to share each and every detail with Hermione, Pansy was more concerned about her friend's well being. It had been days since she left her flat, leaving her bookstore in the capable hands of her employees. She ignored owls and floo calls, pretended not to be home when her friends knocked on the front door. Needless to say, Pansy didn't quite believe that Hermione was ready to hear about her relationship.

"We'll talk about that some other time," she decided with a dismissive wave of her hand. "What I want to know is-" But an angry knock at the front door cut her off.

"What in the world?" Hermione muttered, setting aside her dessert. The visitor pounded on the door harder and harder until she reached it. Undoing the locks, she pulled it open to reveal a red-faced, irate Draco. "Der...Dra...Mal," she stuttered, trying to remember what name to use now when addressing him.

"Save it, Granger," he muttered, pushing his way into her flat. "Two months, two months and you let me walk around believing I was someone else. Two months of holding my hand and kissing me. Was this your sick little way of getting me back for all those years of making fun of you in school?"

"Draco, stop," Pansy admonished, coming to her friend's defense.

Seeing her for the first time, the blond rounded on his old friend. "Stay out of it, Parkinson," he sneered. "You're just as much at fault as Blaise and Granger."

"Please, Draco, just let me explain," Hermione pleaded. She needed him to see reason, to understand all she had tried to do.

Gray eyes narrowed piercingly on her. Involuntarily, Hermione flinched at the harshness of his gaze. Before her, though he was now an adult, was the young boy she had known at Hogwarts. The cruel eyes, the sneer on his lips, the ramrod straight posture were all traits she had been familiar with as a teenager. Derek was definitely gone.

He said nothing, waiting for her to make her excuses. And when she realized he would not interrupt, Hermione gave them. "I tried to tell you," she said, feeling the dreaded tears wet her cheeks. "I spent every free moment I had trying to figure out a way to undo the spell. I poured over every book I could find, pleaded with Kingsley and the Wizengamot. Why would I try to help if I didn't care about you? If it was all some revenge game?"

"I don't pretend to understand your motives for anything you've done," he spat. "The point is you took advantage of the situation. You lied to me for weeks. We weren't friends before, so don't be so shocked that we aren't now."

Frustratedly wiping at her eyes, Hermione steeled her nerves and controlled her emotions. "Well, then I think you should leave," she decided. Without another look in his direction, she left the living room for her bedroom.

"You're an idiot, Draco," she heard Pansy say before she too left Draco alone. She entered the bedroom and shut the door behind herself. She found Hermione seated on the floor leaning against the bed, knees drawn to her chest and her head resting atop them. As she sat down beside her softly sobbing friend, the front door slammed shut.

Hermione shifted her head to the right to rest it upon Pansy's shoulder and sighed. "You don't have to stay," she told Pansy. "I'll be fine." Instead of leaving, Pansy moved closer and put her arm around Hermione's shoulders. She held her friend close as she exhausted her tears.

"He didn't say anything I didn't expect," Hermione murmured. "He's got every right to be mad."

"I wasn't expecting it," Pansy admitted. Lifting her head, Hermione stared at her incredulously. "I thought he was different. I've known Draco my whole life. He'd always been so stubborn and superior, and as time went on, he became angrier and angrier. But then sixth year happened, and I thought he had changed. I thought maybe he'd finally learned to care about other people. Maybe some of that spell the Ministry originally cast stuck. Maybe it was just being Derek that made him so nice."

"Maybe some people just never change," Hermione muttered, massaging her temples free of the headache that had settled in.

Pansy pulled away and stood up, pulling Hermione to her feet with her. Grabbing a tissue from the box on the nightstand, she dabbed at the calming girl's cheeks to erase the evidence of her tears. If only she could erase the memories of the pain she felt. "I hope you never change, Mione," she told her kindly. "You're strong and confident. I know you're hurting right now, but time heals all wounds. It'll heal yours too."

"Thank you," Hermione replied, pulling the witch into a hug. "The worst part was I knew this would happen. Sometimes I really hate being right."


	18. Chapter 18

There's a part in this chapter that was inspired by _Flags of Our Father_s. I was watching the movie while writing this chapter and I'm always moved by the scene where the bar refuses to serve Ira because of his ethnicity. And so, I tweaked it a bit to fit the story and Draco's situation. I figured I should give credit where it's due. Also, I highly recommend the book on which the movie is based.

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><p>Chapter 18<br>The night before his wedding, Harry sat at the bar in the Leaky Cauldron, Ron on his right and Neville Longbottom on his left.

"This is one boring bachelor party," Ron groused as he downed his third firewhiskey.

Harry sighed. "I promised Ginny we wouldn't go crazy," he explained once again, rolling his eyes as he spoke. "Besides, I don't want to show up to my wedding hung over."

"Doesn't mean we can't have fun though," he argued. "Come on, Neville, back me up on this."

Neville, who had been staring at the door as people entered, startled at the sound of his name. "Oh, I'm good," he muttered, turning back to the door. The familiar shock of platinum blond hair was the first thing he saw of the pub's newcomer. Continuing to stare at Draco as he made his way to the back of the pub, he tapped Harry on the shoulder and pointed at the now seated patron. "So, Malfoy's really back?" he asked.

"Yeah, and the bloody wanker broke Hermione's heart," Ron replied angrily. He hopped off of his stool. "I have half a mind to hex him into the next decade."

Harry, too, jumped off of his stool, but it was to restrain the redhead. Despite Ron's attempts to shake him off, Harry held firm. "This will do you no favors with Hermione," he cautioned. Ron stopped fighting and sat back down dejectedly.

"Where are you going?" Neville asked as Harry began to walk away from their group.

"Come on, Tom, one drink. That's all I'm asking for," Draco pleaded, running a hand threw his already askew hair.

Tom, the Leaky Cauldron's owner, shook his head. "Sorry, I don't serve Death Eaters. The door is that way," he replied, pointing behind him.

Harry approached the table and caught the barkeep's eye. "Give me a minute with him before you toss him out." Nodding, the old man walked away and Harry took the free seat. He put his drink down in front of Draco as a peace offering. "Go on, take it."

"I don't want your pity or your company, Potter," Draco spat, pushing the glass away. When Harry didn't leave, he pushed the glass further away. "Go away."

Smiling, Harry moved the glass closer to Draco once more. "Listen, either you drink and talk to me, or you get up and Ron starts throwing jinxes your way. Personally, I think I'm the better option." Draco snorted; Harry Potter would always think himself the best option. "You know, if you told Mione that places are refusing to serve you, she'd probably start a crusade on your behalf," Harry added, chuckling to himself.

Gray eyes narrowed harshly on the raven haired man across from him. _Her_ name had become more taboo to Draco's ears than that of Lord Voldemort. She was the last person, in the world, that he wanted to discuss. He had fallen in love with her, and wished he could forget it. But the memories of her - her touch, her kisses, the smile she reserved only for him - were permanently embedded in his mind. Merlin, he needed a drink, and the only one available to him was the one presented by Potter. He downed it in one swift gulp.

"Tom, another one over here," Harry called out to the barman. Tom quickly delivered another one and Harry slid it to Draco. "She's not doing well, you know."

Again, Draco consumed the drink, wincing as it burned a path down his throat. "She didn't have to get involved in my life," he countered.

"Yeah, but then she wouldn't be Hermione," Harry laughed. The threatening look Draco shot him sobered Harry quickly. "All I'm saying is she cares about you. And don't tell Ron I said this because I will deny it, but she's never loved anyone the way she loves you."

"She didn't love me," the blond argued. "She loved Derek. She wouldn't have given a damn about me if I hadn't been him. Besides, I don't care what she thinks of me."

"I think you do care," Harry replied, wisely nodding his head. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose and leaned forward on the table. "I think the only reason you're mad at her is because you have feelings for her too."

Shaking his head, Draco got to his feet to leave. He muttered something under his breath about Potter being as much a know-it-all as Granger. Harry rose and grabbed hold of Draco's arm. "Let me go," Draco seethed. But Harry shook his head and tightened his grip to tell him they weren't through yet. "Why can't you bloody Gryffindors just leave me the hell alone?"

"Because I'm not done yet," Harry replied as calmly as he could. He redirected Draco back to the table and ordered another drink. "Now, where was I? Right, you got lucky having Hermione in your corner, Malfoy. You spent, what two years, with no one knowing who you were or what happened to you. And then the two of you just happen to cross paths. If it hadn't been for Hermione, you'd still be Derek Malloy, a muggle with no memories who thinks he's going crazy. She did for you what no one else could or would have done. Hell, Zabini was by your side all that time and did nothing."

The more Harry spoke, the madder Draco got. He didn't want to hear anyone defend her actions because, deep down, he knew Potter was right. Blaise had told him about her impassioned pleas to the Ministry of Magic despite the great personal loss it would bring her. She was selfless and driven, everything Draco was not. And for that, he hated and respected her. For the better part of a decade, they had been each other's antithesis, the antagonist and the protagonist, the pureblood and the mudblood. Two short months was all it had taken to turn his way of thinking on its ear. He wanted to continue hating her, but thoughts of their time together prevented such strong emotion.

Sighing defeatedly at the wizard's lack of response, Harry shook his head and stood once more. "I'm not getting anywhere with you," he decided. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet. "Thanks for letting me buy you a few rounds." He threw a few coins down on the table and began to walk away. Finally, Draco could finish his drink in peace.

"Wait, one more thing," Harry said, doubling back to the table. Draco groaned; so close. Harry pulled a scrap of parchment from his back pocket and presented it to his former schoolmate. "If you want to prove that you really care for her, be there tomorrow."

Draco waited until Harry rejoined Ron and Neville before looking at the note. Written in Harry's haphazard scrawl was the date, time, and location of his wedding.


	19. Chapter 19

After this, we only have the Epilogue left. Maybe I'll post it tomorrow. Ya know finish a week, finish a story. Then next week I'll go back to posting the other two stories. Hope you enjoy!

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><p>Chapter 19<br>The ceremony had just ended and the reception was about to begin. Hermione adjusted the train of Ginny's dress, making it shorter to avoid any accidents. Ron had already stepped on it twice as the bride, groom, best man, and maid of honor entered the reception tent.

"You okay?" Ginny asked as Hermione completed the alterations.

"Fine," Hermione replied. She picked up her bouquet and led Ginny to Harry. "She's all yours. Treat her right, or she's got six brothers coming after you."

Harry kissed her cheek. "Oh, I know," he replied. "Three of them have already threatened to Avada me if I hurt her. I'll be honest, though, I'm more afraid of the damage she could do."

"I'm standing right here," Ginny reminded them as the band played a lively tune. Hermione and Ron entered the tent first, followed by the newlyweds. Applause greeted them as Ron and Hermione took their seats and Harry and Ginny made their way to the center of the dance floor. The instrumental music changed to a slow number, and Hermione smiled as her two friends held each other close. Once upon a time, she had imagined that one day Ron would held her close as they danced to their first song as a married couple. But time and fate had moved them in opposite directions, and she firmly believed they would never be anything more than friends.

As the song ended and a new one began, couples joined them on the dance floor. Ron found Lavender, leaving Hermione alone at the table. A tall, slightly pudgy man with dark brown hair approached her with a nervous smile.

"Would you like to dance?" he asked, his voice shaking anxiously.

Hermione recognized him instantly from Harry's pictures - Dudley Dursley. In the years following the war, his relationship with his once bullying cousin had mended. The two men often met for lunch, and on occasion, Harry had dinner with the Dursley family. Petunia, Dudley's mother, was also in attendance, but Vernon was not. He had never been able to forgive Harry for the turmoil his presence caused.

"I'd love to," Hermione replied. Walking around the table, she let Dudley take her hand and lead her to the floor. His hands were clammy and he repeatedly stepped on her toes, but Hermione didn't complain. She admired Harry's cousin for his ability to leave the past where it belonged and forge a new understanding and friendship with Harry. It had saddened her greatly that her own parents had been unable to do that very thing, opting instead to distance themselves from their magical daughter.

A hand tapped her shoulder as the song came to a close. "May I cut in?" the man behind her asked. It was a deep, rich voice she instantly recognized. Dudley let her go, promising not to step on her toes if he had the opportunity to dance with her again later. Hermione waited for him to leave before turning around.

"What you doing here?" she asked coldly, looking anywhere but at Draco Malfoy.

He rested one hand on her waist and took her left hand in his right. "I was invited," he replied. "Potter's a bit nosy, don't you think?"

"It depends on what he did," she responded. Her breath caught in her throat as he eased her closer.

Draco's hand traced a small circular pattern on her back. "He made me realize how wrong I was," he informed her. "I had a dream the other night."

"What was it about?" Hermione asked, her voice sounding small as the words came out. They stopped dancing as Draco led a wary Hermione out of the tent. The sun had just begun to set, casting red, yellow, and orange hues over the grounds of the continued to walk farther and farther away from the reception, and because he held tightly to Hermione's hand, she followed. Once they reached the pond, they sat on the small bench beneath the old weeping willow tree. Though the property was magicked with a warming spell, Hermione couldn't help the shudder that coursed through her. Draco took off tuxedo jacket and draped it over her shoulders.

She thanked him, and then asked, "Are you going to tell me about your dream?"

Draco looked out over the calm water of the pond. "There's not much to say," he replied. "It was about you."

"What about me?" she asked, narrowing her eyes on the blond who refused to look her way.

Draco sighed and leaned forward, his elbows resting on his thighs. "It started out at the Yule Ball. That night was the first time I realized that I'd be wrong in making fun of how you looked. None of us had ever seen you look so beautiful. Anyhow, you were sitting on the stairs crying because you and Weasley had fought. Krum was nowhere to be found, most likely because Blaise had spiked the punch. You let me dance with you.

"And then the dream shifted," he continued. "It was your wedding day, and I guess I sort of gatecrashed. You went outside to get some air and I followed. The music from inside was faint, but we could hear it well enough to dance to it. For the last time, I'd get to hold you close and I don't think I wanted to let go. As the song ended, you whispered something that I couldn't make out."

"What do you think it was I said?" she inquired.

His posture straightened at the sound of her voice. "I love you," he replied.

Hermione felt herself stiffen. In the weeks since their break up, she had tried to force herself to stop loving him to no avail. Though he had changed, her feelings remained the same. "I loved Derek," she stated, pulling his jacket tighter around her shoulders. "More than I've ever loved anyone. He wasn't real though, was he?"

Draco leaned back against the bench. "You know, I spent the better part of the last two years angry at the world for what had happened to me. I hated people for not knowing who I was, I hated the doctors for not knowing how to fix me, and I hated myself for expecting someone else to do something for me. And then I found your shop...and you, of course. I was happy when I was with you, like all my problems in the world disappeared with one little smile from you. In those moments, I could forget that I was some lunatic with no past."

"And I felt guilty for not doing something sooner," she interjected.

Draco shook his head. "You did everything, Hermione," he said softly, finding her hand. Their fingers laced together and Hermione gave them a squeeze. "You did everything and I blamed you for it. For that, I am so sorry. I meant it when I said I love you. I know you loved Derek, but is there any way that maybe you could love me too?"

"I think you and Derek might be the same person," she whispered, using her free hand to turn his face towards her. "I think I could love you too, Draco."


	20. Epilogue

Here it is guys - the end. It's a bit on the short side, but I think it wraps things up nicely. This has been such a fun story to write, and I'm so thrilled by the number of people who enjoyed it. Keep an eye out for updates to "An Awfully Big Adventure" and "Anniversaries".

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><p>Epilogue<br>Hermione stood on the hotel balcony looking out over Greece's Acropolis. It was the most beautiful place she had ever seen, and it was quiet enough to hear herself think. The wedding would be taking place in the same hotel in a few short hours. A sad smile reached her lips as she thought about the groom. Years ago, she had dreamed that she would be his bride, proudly calling herself Mrs. Weasley, and raising ginger haired babies with Ron by her side.

She remembered the first time she brought Draco to brunch with the Weasleys. It was the week after Harry and Ginny's wedding, and their reunion. She had expected a blow up; curses to be cast and fists to fly. After all, she had only told Harry, Ron, and Ginny about her involvement with Derek and Draco. The rest who had seen him believed him to be a mere gatecrasher at the reception, one last chance to get under Harry's skin. Ginny, Hermione soon learned, had a big mouth. It had been the youngest Weasley, though, who cautioned her family that Hermione could leave their family if she didn't like their behavior toward Draco. Thankfully, the family had been on their best behavior, including the twins who were prone to pranking any newcomers.

Introductions with the Weasleys had gone far smoother than those with Mrs. Malfoy. Narcissa Malfoy had a cold, distant air about her and a way of observing a guest that made them wonder what they had done wrong. Of course, she was an overly doting mother to her son. It had been two years since they had last seen each other, and it had taken a special reprieve from the Minister of Magic to allow the visit in the first place. Narcissa hadn't been happy that Hermione Granger appeared on her son's arm the first time he came back home. Dinner and dessert had been an intense affair, leaving the young couple breathing a great sigh of relief when it was over.

"Hermione? Are you here?"

She heard the voice, but didn't respond; too lost in her memories to form audible words. She remembered the proposal. They revisited the small Italian restaurant at the back of the alley near his old apartment. She had no idea what his intentions were that evening. He was thoroughly calm as they discussed the reprieves granted to the other young Death Eaters whose memories had been wiped. Not until they arrived at the Thames, and flooded by the lights of the backdrop, did Draco get down on one knee and ask the most important question of his life. "Will you marry me?"

With tears in her eyes and a diamond ring now on her hand, Hermione said yes. They married in a small ceremony, one that was unattended by their parents. The Weasley family was there in full support of the newlyweds, welcoming Draco into their family.

"Mrs. Weasley is beside herself with nothing to do," he joked, stepping out onto the terrace.

"That's what Lavender and Ron get for hiring a wedding planner," she replied, leaning back against his chest as his arms encircled her waist. "She won't have another wedding to plan until Victoire gets married."

Draco shrugged. "Well, at least she gets to be the doting grandmum for now."

Looking up at him, she smiled. "Is that your way of telling me she's watching Gabriel right now?"

"She asked, nay, begged me to let her," he replied defensively. "Besides, she was already watching James, and you know that pair won't be separated. Imagine, a Potter and a Malfoy getting along."

With a roll of her eyes, she stepped out of his grasp and reentered the room. "Don't worry, love. They're only six months old. You and Harry have plenty of time to fill their heads about how one family is better than the other. Speaking of Harry, did you two enjoy your male bonding last night?"

Draco flushed with embarrassment. In the years since his memory had been reversed, he and Harry had slowly become friends. It was Harry and Ron who gave him their blessing when he wanted to marry Hermione, and Harry had stood up at their wedding as best man. "We had fun," was his only response. "So, how much time do we have before the ceremony?"

Hermione peeled off her cardigan and draped it over the vanity chair. "Two hours. Why?" she asked, a wry smile forming on her lips. He closed in on her, embracing her lithe frame and letting their lips connect in a sweet, but hungry kiss. "Trying to get a start on baby Malfoy number two?" she joked when his lips moved to her neck.

His head pulled back, but his grip didn't slacken in the least. "I wouldn't be here now if it weren't for you," he spoke with sincerity, ignoring her playful remark. "Honestly, I don't know where I'd be. When the war happened, I never thought I'd make it out alive. I might not have even survived my sentencing if you hadn't worked your magic."

"Don't say that," she implored. "Blaise was..."

"Blaise was only able to do what the Ministry allowed," he interjected. "You saved me, Hermione, and I intend to spend the rest of my life showing you just how grateful I am."

"I love you," she murmured, smiling despite her tears. She pressed her lips to his once more.

"I will always love you, Hermione Malfoy," he replied.


End file.
